UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  02751  8687 


UN]VERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  02751  8687 


Social  Sciences  &  Humanities  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Please  Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall. 

Date  Due 

V  y  <.'  , 

FFR  «  K 

rtD      »    I>       : 

-L.^63t)-il3>'\ 

DEC  2  9  1999 

pT  p  A  r>pr\  ir  1" 

K^LiIlI\l\lllJ  ILiL. 

CI  39  (5/97)                                                                         UCSD  Lib. 

-Da 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

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http://www.archive.org/details/amongtibetansOObird 


USMAN    SHAH 


AMONG    THE    TIBETANS 


ISABELLA    BIRD    BISHOP,    F.R.G.S. 

HON.    FELLOW    OF  THE   ROYAL  SCOTTISH   GEOGRAPHICAL   SOCIETY,    ETC. 
AUTHOR   OF   "  UNBEATEN   TRACKS   IN  JAPAN,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


iVITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  EDWARD    WHYMPER 


FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 
New  York         Chicago         Toronto 

The  Reli^'ous  Tract  Society,  London 


Copyright,  1894, 

by 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAQB 

Thb  Stabt y 


CHAPTER  II 

ShEEGOL  and  LeH AQ 

CHAPTER  III 

NUBBA,  ♦., IJ2 

CHAPTER  IV 
Mannees  and  Customs     .       .       , loj 

CHAPTER  V 
Climate  and  Natural  Featdees i^o 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTEATIONS 


FAQB 

Usman  Shah •••       Frontispiece 

The  Start  from  Srinagap 13 

Camp  at  Gagangair      •...•••••  18 

Sonamarg             ai 

A  hand  Prayer-Cylinder 4^ 

Tibetan  Girl 45 

Gonpo  of  Spitak  .....«..••  5^ 

Leh •  57 

AChod-Ten 66 

A  Lama 74 

Three  Gopas 77 

Some  Instruments  of  Buddhist  Worship 86 

Monastic  Buildings  at  Basgu 93 

The  Yak  (Bos  grunniens) 1°° 

A  Chang-pa  Woman 102 

Chang-pa  Chief "o 

ITie  Castle  of  Stok H? 

First  Village  in  Kulu 1 25 

A  Tibetan  Farm-house 133 

Lahul  Valley I41 

Gonp»  at  Kylang 149 


CHAPTER  I 


THE   START 


The  Vale  of  Kashmir  is  too  well  known  to  require 
description.  It  is  the  '  happy  hunting-ground '  of  the 
Anglo-Indian  sportsman  and  tourist,  the  resort  of 
artists  and  invahds,  the  home  of  pashvi  shawls  and 
exquisitely  embroidered  fabrics,  and  the  land  of  Lalla 
Rookh.  Its  iuhabitants,  chiefly  Moslems,  infamously 
governed  by  Hindus,  are  a  feeble  race,  attracting  little 
interest,  valuable  to  travellers  as  '  coolies '  or  porters, 
and  repulsive  to  them  from  the  mingled  cunning  and 
obsequiousness  which  have  been  fostered  by  ages  of 
oppression.  But  even  for  them  there  is  the  dawn  of 
hope,  for  the  Church  Missionary  Society  has  a  strong 
medical  and  educational  mission  at  the  capital, 
a  hospital  and  dispensary  under  the  charge  of  a  lady 
M.D.  have  been  opened  for  women,  and  a  capable 


8  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

and  upright  'settlement  officer,'  lent  by  the  Indian 
Government,  is  investigating  the  iniquitous  land 
arrangements  with  a  view  to  a  just  settlement. 

I  left  the  Panjab  railroad  system  at  Rawul  Pindi, 
bought  my  camp  equipage,  and  travelled  through  the 
grand  ravines  which  lead  to  Kashmir  or  the  Jhelum 
Valley  by  hill-cart,  on  horseback,  and  by  house-boat, 
reaching  Srinagar  at  the  end  of  April,  when  the  velvet 
lawns  were  at  their  greenest,  and  the  foliage  was  at 
its  freshest,  and  the  deodar-skirted  mountains  which 
enclose  this  fairest  gem  of  the  Himalayas  still  wore 
their  winter  mantle  of  unsullied  snow.  Makino-  Srin- 
agar  my  headquarters,  I  spent  two  months  in  travelling 
in  Kashmir,  half  the  time  in  a  native  house-boat 
on  the  Jhelum  and  Pohru  rivers,  and  the  other  half 
on  horseback,  camping  wherever  the  scenery  was 
most  attractive. 

By  the  middle  of  June  mosquitos  were  rampant,  the 
grass  was  tawny,  a  brown  dust  haze  hung  over  the 
valley,  the  camp-fires  of  a  multitude  glared  through 
the  hot  nights  and  misty  moonlight  of  the  Munshibagh, 
English  tents  dotted  the  landscape,  there  was  no 
mountain,  valley,  or  plateau,  however  remote,  free 
from  the  clatter  of  English  voices  and  the  trained 
servility  of  Hindu  servants,  and  even  Sonamarg,  at 
an  altitude  of  8,000  feet  and  rough  of  access,  had 


THE  START  9 

capitulated  to  lawn-tennis.  To  a  traveller  this  Anglo- 
Indian  hubbub  was  intolerable,  and  I  left  Srinagar 
and  many  kind  friends  on  June  20  for  the  uplifted 
plateaux  of  Lesser  Tibet.  My  party  consisted  of 
myself,  a  thoroughly  competent  servant  and  passable 
interpreter,  Hassan  Khan,  a  Paiijabi ;  a  sm,  of  whom 
the  less  that  is  said  the  better ;  and  Mando,  a  Kashmiri 
lad,  a  common  coolie,  who,  under  Hassan  Khan's 
training,  developed  into  an  efficient  travelling  servant, 
and  later  into  a  smart  hldtmiatgar. 

Gyalpo,  my  horse,  must  not  be  forgotten — indeed, 
he  cannot  be,  for  he  left  the  marks  of  his  heels  or  teeth 
on  every  one.  He  was  a  beautiful  creature,  Eadak- 
shani  bred,  of  Arab  blood,  a  silver-grey,  as  light  as 
a  greyhound  and  as  strong  as  a  cart-horse.  He  was 
higher  in  the  scale  of  intellect  than  any  horse  of  my 
acquaintance.  His  cleverness  at  times  suggested 
reasoning  power,  and  his  mischievousness  a  sense  of 
humour.  He  walked  five  miles  an  hour,  jumped  like 
a  deer,  climbed  like  a  ycik,  was  strong  and  steady  in 
perilous  fords,  tireless,  hardy,  hungry,  frolicked  along 
ledges  of  precipices  and  over  crevassed  glaciers,  was 
absolutely  fearless,  and  his  slender  legs  and  the  use 
he  made  of  them  were  the  marvel  of  all.  He  was  an 
enigma  to  the  end.  He  was  quite  untamable,  rejected 
all  dainties  with  indignation,  swung  his  heels  into 


10  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

people's  faces  when  they  went  near  him,  ran  at  them 
with  his  teeth,  seized  unwary  passers-by  by  their 
kamar  bands,  and  shook  them  as  a  dog  shakes  a  rat, 
would  let  no  one  go  near  him  but  Mando,  for  whom 
he  formed  at  first  sight  a  most  singular  attachment, 
but  kicked  and  struck  with  his  forefeet,  his  eyes  all 
the  time  dancing  with  fun,  so  that  one  could  never 
decide  whether  his  ceaseless  pranks  were  play  or  vice. 
He  was  always  tethered  in  front  of  my  tent  with  a  rope 
twenty  feet  long,  which  left  him  practically  free ;  he 
was  as  good  as  a  watchdog,  and  his  antics  and  enig- 
matical savagery  were  the  life  and  terror  of  the  camp. 
I  was  never  weary  of  watching  him,  the  curves  of  his 
form  were  so  exquisite,  his  movements  so  lithe  and 
rapid,  his  small  head  and  restless  little  ears  so  full  of 
life  and  expression,  the  variations  in  his  manner  so 
frequent,  one  moment  savagely  attacking  some  unwary 
stranger  with  a  scream  of  rage,  the  next  laying  his 
lovely  head  against  Mando's  cheek  with  a  soft  cooing 
sound  and  a  childlike  gentleness.  When  he  was 
attacking  anybody  or  frolicking,  his  movements  and 
beauty  can  only  be  described  by  a  phrase  of  the 
Apostle  James,  'the  grace  of  the  fashion  of  it.' 
Colonel  Durand,  of  Gilgit  celebrity,  to  whom  I  am 
indebted  for  many  other  kindnesses,  gave  him  to  me 
in  exchange  for  a  cowardly,  heavy  Yarkand  horse,  and 


THE  START  II 

had  previously  vainly  tried  to  tame  him.  His  wild 
eyes  were  like  those  of  a  seagull.  He  had  no  kinship 
with  humanity. 

In  addition,  I  had  as  escort  an  Afghan  or  Pathan, 
a  soldier  of  the  Maharajah's  irregular  force  of  foreign 
mercenaries,  who  had  been  sent  to  meet  me  when 
I  entered  Kashmir.  This  man,  Usman  Shah,  was 
a  stage  ruffian  in  appearance.  He  wore  a  turban 
of  prodigious  height  ornamented  with  poppies  or 
birds'  feathers^  loved  fantastic  colours  and  ceaseless 
change  of  raiment^  walked  in  front  of  me  carrying 
a  big  sword  over  his  shoulder,  plundered  and  beat 
the  people,  terrified  the  women,  and  was  eventually 
recognised  at  Leh  as  a  murderer,  and  as  great  a 
ruffian  in  reality  as  he  was  in  appearance.  An 
attendant  of  this  kind  is  a  mistake.  The  brutality 
and  rapacity  he  exercises  naturally  make  the  people 
cowardly  or  surly,  and  disinclined  to  trust  a  traveller 
so  accompanied. 

Finally,  I  had  a  Cabul  tent,  7  ft.  6  in.  by  8  ft.  6  in., 
weighing,  with  poles  and  iron  pins,  75  lbs.,  a  trestle 
bed  and  cork  mattress,  a  folding  table  and  chair, 
and  an  Indian  dhurrie  as  a  carpet. 

My  servants  had  a  tent  5  ft.  6  in.  square,  weighing 
only  10  lbs.,  which  served  as  a  shelter  tent  for  me 
during  the  noonday  halt.     A  kettle,  copper  pot,  and 


la  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

frying  pan,  a  few  enamelled  iron  table  equipments, 
bedding,  clothing,  working  and  sketching  materials, 
completed  my  outfit.  The  servants  carried  wadded 
quilts  for  beds  and  bedding,  and  their  own  cooking 
utensils,  unwillingness  to  use  those  belonging  to 
a  Christian  being  nearly  the  last  rag  of  religion  (vhich 
they  retained.  The  only  stores  I  carried  were  tea, 
a  quantity  of  Edwards'  desiccated  soup,  and  a  little 
saccharin.  The  '  house,'  furniture,  clothing,  &c.,  were 
a  light  load  for  three  mules,  engaged  at  a  shilling 
a  day  each,  including  the  muleteer.  Sheep,  coarse 
flour,  milk,  and  barley  were  procurable  at  very 
moderate  prices  on  the  road. 

Leh,  the  capital  of  Ladakh  or  Lesser  Tibet,  is 
nineteen  marches  from  Srinagar,  but  I  occupied 
twenty-six  days  on  the  journey,  and  made  the  first 
'  march  '  by  water,  taking  my  house-boat  to  Gan- 
derbal,  a  few  hours  from  Srinagar,  via  the  Mar 
Nullah  and  An  char  Lake.  Never  had  this  Venice 
of  the  Himalayas,  with  a  broad  rushing  river  for  its 
high  street  and  winding  canals  for  its  back  streets, 
looked  so  entrancingly  beautiful  as  in  the  slant  sun- 
shine of  the  late  June  afternoon.  The  light  fell 
brightly  on  the  river  at  the  Residency  stairs  where 
I  embarked,  on  i:)erindas  and  state  barges,  with  their 
painted  arabesques,   gay   canopies,    and   'banks'   of 


THE  START  15 

thirty  and  forty  crimson-clad,  blue-turbaned,  paddling 
men  ;  on  the  gay  facade  and  gold-domed  temple  of 
the  Maharajah's  Palace,  on  the  massive  deodar  bridges 
which  for  centuries  have  defied  decay  and  the  fierce 
flood  of  the  Jhelum,  and  on  the  quaintly  picturesque 
wooden  architecture  and  carved  brown  lattice  fronts 
of  the  houses  along  the  swirling  waterway,  and 
glanced  mirthfully  through  the  dense  leafage  of  the 
superb  planes  which  overhang  the  dark-green  water. 
But  the  mercury  was  92°  in  the  shade  and  the  sun- 
blaze  terrific,  and  it  was  a  relief  when  the  boat 
swung  round  a  corner,  and  left  the  stir  of  the  broad, 
rapid  Jhelum  for  a  still,  narrow,  and  sharply  winding 
canal,  which  intersects  a  part  of  Srinagar  lying  be- 
tween the  Jhelum  and  the  hill-crowning  fort  of  Hari 
Parbat.  There  the  shadows  were  deep,  and  chance 
lights  alone  fell  on  the  red  dresses  of  the  women 
at  the  ghats,  and  on  the  shaven,  shiny  heads  of 
hundreds  of  amphibious  boys  who  were  swimming 
and  aquatically  romping  in  the  canal,  which  is  at 
once  the  sewer  and  the  water  supply  of  the  district. 

Several  hours  were  spent  in  a  slow  and  tortuous 
progress  through  scenes  of  indescribable  picturesque- 
ness — a  narrow  waterway  spanned  by  sharp-angled 
stone  bridges,  some  of  them  with  houses  on  the  top, 
or  by  old  brown  wooden  bridges  festooned  with  vines, 


1 6  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

hemmed  in  by  lofty  stone  embankments  into  which 
sculptured  stones  from  ancient  temples  are  wrought, 
on  the  top  of  which  are  houses  of  rich  men,  fancifully 
built,  with  windows  of  fretwork  of  wood,  or  gardens 
with  kiosks,  and  lower  embankments  sustaining 
many-balconied  dwellings,  rich  in  colour  and  fan- 
tastic in  design,  their  upper  fronts,  projecting  over 
the  water  and  supported  on  piles.  There  were 
gigantic  poplars  wreathed  with  vines,  great  mulberry 
trees  hanging  their  tempting  fruit  just  out  of  reach, 
huge  planes  overarching  the  water,  their  dense  leaf- 
age scraping  the  mat  roof  of  the  boat ;  filthy  ghats 
thronged  with  white-robed  Moslems  performing  their 
scanty  religious  ablutions ;  great  grain  boats  heavily 
thatched,  containing  not  only  families,  but  their 
sheep  and  poultry ;  and  all  the  other  sights  of 
a  crowded  Srinagar  waterway,  the  houses  being 
characteristically  distorted  and  out  of  repair.  This 
canal  gradually  widens  into  the  Anchar  Lake,  a 
reedy  mere  of  indefinite  boundaries,  the  breeding- 
ground  of  legions  of  mosquitos  ;  and  after  the  tawny 
twilight  darkened  into  a  stifling  night  we  made  fast 
to  a  reed  bed,  not  reaching  Ganderbal  till  late  the 
next  morning,  where  my  horse  and  caravan  awaited 
me  under  a  splendid  plane-tree. 

For  the  next  five  days  we  marched  up  the  Sind 


■m-^m^^^ 


THE  START  I9 

Valley,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  Kashmir  from 
its  grandeur  and  variety.  Beginning  among  quiet 
rice-fields  and  brown  ao-ricultural  villages  at  an 
altitude  of  5,000  feet,  the  track,  usually  bad  and 
sometimes  steep  and  perilous,  passes  through  flower- 
gemmed  alpine  meadows,  along  dark  gorges  above 
the  booming  and  rushing  Sind,  through  woods  matted 
with  the  sweet  white  jasmine,  the  lower  hem  of  the 
pine  and  deodar  forests  which  ascend  the  mountains 
to  a  considerable  altitude,  past  rifts  giving  glimpses 
of  dazzling  snow-peaks,  over  grassy  slopes  dotted 
with  villages,  houses,  and  shrines  embosomed  in 
walnut  groves,  in  sight  of  the  frowning  crags  of 
Haramuk,  through  wooded  lanes  and  park-like 
country  over  which  farms  are  thinly  scattered,  over 
um'ailed  and  shaky  bridges,  and  across  avalanche 
slopes,  till  it  reaches  Gagangair,  a  dream  of  lonely 
beauty,  with  a  camping-ground  of  velvety  sward 
under  noble  plane-trees.  Above  this  place  the  valley 
closes  in  between  walls  of  precipices  and  crags,  which 
rise  almost  abruptly  from  the  Sind  to  heights  of 
8,000  and  10,000  feet.  The  road  in  many  places  is 
only  a  series  of  steep  and  shelving  ledges  above 
the  raging  river,  natural  rock  smoothed  and  polished 
into  riskiness  by  the  passage  for  centuries  of  the 
trade  into  Central  Asia  from  Western  India,  Kashmir, 

B  2 


ao  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

and  Afghanistan.  Its  piecariousness  for  animals  was 
emphasised  to  mo  by  five  serious  accidents  which 
occurred  in  the  week  of  my  journey,  one  of  them 
involving  the  loss  of  the  money,  clothing,  and  sport- 
ing kit  of  an  English  officer  bound  for  Ladakh  for 
three  months.  Above  this  tremendous  gorge  the 
mountains  open  out,  and  after  crossing  to  the  left 
bank  of  the  Sind  a  sharp  ascent  brought  me  to  the 
beautiful  alpine  meadow  of  Sonamarg,  bright  with 
spring  flowers,  gleaming  with  crystal  streams,  and 
fringed  on  all  sides  by  deciduous  and  coniferous 
trees,  above  and  among  which  are  great  glaciers  and 
the  snowy  peaks  of  Tilail.  Fashion  has  deserted 
Sonamarg,  rough  of  access,  for  Gulmarg,  a  caprice 
indicated  by  the  ruins  of  several  huts  and  of 
a  church.  The  pure  bracing  air,  magnificent  views, 
the  proximity  and  accessibility  of  glaciers,  and  the 
presence  of  a  kind  friend  who  was  'hutted'  there 
for  the  summer,  made  Sonamarg  a  very  pleasant 
halt  before  entering  upon  the  supposed  severities  of 
the  journey  to  Lesser  Tibet. 

The  five  days'  march,  though  propitious  and  full 
of  the  charm  of  magnificent  scenery,  had  opened 
my  eyes  to  certain  unpleasantnesses.  I  found  that 
Usman  Shah  maltreated  the  villagers,  and  not  only 
robbed  them  of  their  best  fowls,  but   requisitione  1 


THE  START  2$- 

all  manner  of  things  in  my  name,  though  I  scrupu- 
lously and  personally  paid  for  everything,  beating 
the  people  with  his  scabbarded  sword  if  they  showed 
any  intention  of  standing  upon  their  rights.  Then 
I  found  that  my  clever  factotum,  not  content  with  the 
legitimate  '  squeeze '  of  ten  per  cent.,  was  charging  me 
double  price  for  everything  and  paying  the  sellers 
only  half  the  actual  price,  this  legerdemain  being 
perpetrated  in  my  presence.  He  also  by  threats  got 
back  from  the  coolies  half  their  day's  wages  after 
I  had  paid  them,  received  money  for  barley  for  Gyalpo, 
and  never  bought  it,  a  fact  brought  to  light  by  the 
growing  feebleness  of  the  horse,  and  cheated  in  all 
sorts  of  mean  and  plausible  ways,  though  I  paid 
him  exceptionally  high  wages,  and  was  prepared  to 
'  wink '  at  a  modei'ate  amount  of  dishonesty,  so  long 
as  it  affected  only  myself.  It  has  a  lowering  influence 
upon  one  to  live  in  a  fog  of  lies  and  fraud,  and  the 
attempt  to  checkmate  a  fraudulent  Asiatic  ends  in 
extreme  discomfiture. 

I  left  Sonamarg  late  on  a  lovely  afternoon  for 
a  short  march  through  forest-skirted  alpine  meadows 
to  Ealtal,  the  last  camping-ground  in  Kashmir,  a 
grassy  valley  at  the  foot  of  the  Zoji  La,  the  first  of 
three  gigantic  steps  by  which  the  lofty  plateaux  of 
Central  Asia  are   attained.      On  the  load  &  large 


24  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

affluent  of  the  Sind,  which  tumbles  down  a  pine- 
hung  gorge  in  broad  sheets  of  foam,  has  to  be 
crossed.  My  seis^  a  rogue,  was  either  half-witted  or 
pretended  to  be  so,  and,  in  spite  of  orders  to  the 
contrary,  led  Gyalpo  upon  a  bridge  at  a  considerable 
height,  formed  of  two  poles  with  flat  pieces  of 
stone  laid  loosely  over  them  not  more  than  a  foot 
broad.  As  the  horse  reached  the  middle,  the  structure 
gave  a  sort  of  turn,  there  wfis  a  vision  of  hoofs  in  air 
and  a  gleam  of  scarlet,  and  Gyalpo,  the  hope  of  the 
next  four  months,  after  rolLng  over  more  than  once, 
vanished  among  rocks  and  surges  of  the  wildest  de- 
scription. He  kept  his  presence  of  mind,  however, 
recovered  himself,  and  by  a  desperate  effort  got 
ashore  lower  down,  with  legs  scratched  and  bleeding 
and  one  horn  of  the  saddle  incurably  bent. 

Mr.  Maconochie  of  the  Panjab  Civil  Service,  and 
Dr.  E.  Neve  of  the  C.  M.  S.  Medical  Mission  in 
Kashmir,  accompanied  me  from  Sonamarg  over  the 
pass,  and  that  night  Mr.  M.  talked  seriously  to  Usman 
Shah  on  the  subject  of  his  misconduct,  and  with  such 
sinofular  results  that  thereafter  I  had  little  cause  for 
complaint.  He  came  to  me  and  said,  '  The  Com- 
missioner Sahib  thinks  I  give  Mem  Sahib  a  great  deal 
of  trouble ; '  to  which  I  replied  in  a  cold  tone,  '  Take 
care  you  don't  give  me  any  more.'     The  gist  of  the 


THE  START  0.$ 

Sahib's  words  was  the  very  pertinent  suggestion  that 
it  would  eventually  be  more  to  his  interest  to  serve 
me  honestly  and  faithfully  than  to  cheat  me. 

Baltal  lies  at  the  feet  of  a  precipitous  range,  the 
peaks  of  which  exceed  Mont  Blanc  in  height.  Two 
gorges  unite  there.  There  is  not  a  hut  within  ten 
miles.  Big  camp-fires  blazed.  A  few  shepherds  lay 
under  the  shelter  of  a  mat  screen.  The  silence  and 
solitude  were  most  impressive  under  the  frosty  stars 
and  the  great  Central  Asian  barrier.  Sum-ise  the 
following  morning  saw  us  on  the  way  up  a  huge  gorge 
with  nearly  perpendicular  sides,  and  filled  to  a  great 
depth  with  snow.  Then  came  the  Zoji  La,  which,  with 
the  Namika  La  and  the  Fotu  La,  respectively  11,300, 
13,000,  and  13.500  feet,  are  the  three  great  steps  from 
Kashmir  to  the  Tibetan  heights.  The  two  latter 
passes  present  no  difficulties.  The  Zoji  La  is  a 
thoroughly  severe  pass,  the  worst,  with  the  exception 
perhaps  of  the  Sasir,  on  the  Yarkand  caravan  route. 
The  track,  cut,  broken,  and  worn  on  the  side  of  a  wall 
of  rock  nearly  2,000  feet  in  abrupt  elevation,  is  a  series 
of  rough  narrow  zigzags,  rarely,  if  ever,  wide  enough 
for  laden  animals  to  pass  each  other,  composed  of 
broken  ledges  often  nearly  breast  high,  and  shelving 
surfaces  of  abraded  rock,  up  which  animals  hay©  to 
leap  and  scramble  as  best  they  may. 


25  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

Trees  and  trailers  drooped  over  the  path,  ferns  and 
lilies  bloomed  in  moist  recesses,  and  among  myriads 
of  flowers  a  large  blue  and  cream  columbine  was 
conspicuous  by  its  beauty  and  exquisite  odour.  The 
charm  of  the  detail  tempted  one  to  linger  at  every 
turn,  and  all  the  more  so  because  I  knew  that  I  should 
see  nothing  more  of  the  grace  and  bounteousness  of 
Nature  till  my  projected  descent  into  Kulu  in  the  late 
autumn.  The  snow-filled  gorge  on  whose  abrupt  side 
the  path  hangs,  the  Zoji  La  (Pass),  is  geographically 
remarkable  as  being  the  lowest  depression  in  the  great 
Himalayan  range  for  300  miles;  and  by  it,  in  spite 
of  infamous  bits  of  road  on  the  Sind  and  Suru  rivers, 
and  consequent  losses  of  goods  and  animals,  all  the 
traffic  of  Kashmir,  Afghanistan,  and  the  Western 
Panjab  finds  its  way  into  Central  Asia.  It  was  too 
early  in  the  season,  however,  for  more  than  a  few 
enterprising  caravans  to  be  on  the  road. 

The  last  look  upon  Kashmir  was  a  lingering  one. 
Below,  in  shadow,  lay  the  Baltal  camping-ground, 
a  lonely  deodar-belted  flowery  meadow,  noisy  with 
the  dash  of  icy  torrents  tumbling  down  from  the 
snowfields  and  glaciers  upborne  by  the  gigantic 
mountain  range  into  which  we  had  penetrated  by  the 
Zoji  Pass.  The  valley,  l^ing  in  shadow  at  their  base, 
was  a  dream  of  beauty,  green  as  an  English  lawn, 


THE  START  ij 

starred  with  white  lilies,  and  dotted  with  clumps  of 
trees  which  were  festooned  with  red  and  white  roses, 
clematis,  and  white  jasmine.  Above  the  hardier 
deciduous  trees  appeared  the  Finns  excelsa,  the  silver 
fir,  and  the  spruce ;  higher  yet  the  stately  grace  of  the 
deodar  clothed  the  hillsides ;  and  above  the  forests 
rose  the  snow  mountains  of  Tilail,  pink  in  the  sunrise. 
High  above  the  Zoji,  itself  11,500  feet  in  altitude, 
a  mass  of  grey  and  red  mountains,  snow-slashed  and 
snow-capped,  rose  in  the  dewy  rose-flushed  atmosphere 
in  peaks,  walls,  pinnacles,  and  jagged  ridges,  above 
which  towered  yet  loftier  summits,  bearing  into  the 
heavenly  blue  sky  fields  of  unsullied  snow  alone. 
The  descent  on  the  Tibetan  side  is  slight  and  gradual. 
The  character  of  the  scenery  undergoes  an  abrupt 
change.  There  are  no  more  trees,  and  the  large 
shrubs  which  for  a  time  take  their  place  degenerate 
into  thorny  bushes,  and  then  disappear.  There  were 
mountains  thinly  clothed  with  grass  here  and  there, 
mountains  of  bare  gravel  and  red  rock,  grey  crags, 
stretches  of  green  turf,  sunlit  peaks  with  their  snows, 
a  deep,  enow-filled  ravine,  eastwards  and  beyond 
a  long  valley  filled  with  a  snowfield  fringed  with  pink 
primulas ;  and  that  was  Central  Asia. 

We  halted  for  breakfast,  iced  our  cold  tea  in  the 
snow,   Mr.  M.  gave  a  final  charge  to  the  Afghan, 


28  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

who  swore  by  his  Prophet  to  be  faithful,  and  I  parted 
from  my  kind  escorts  with  much  reluctance,  and 
started  on  my  Tibetan  journey,  with  but  a  slendei 
stock  of  Hindustani,  and  two  men  who  spoke  not 
a  word  of  English.  On  that  day's  march  of  fourteen 
miles  there  is  not  a  single  hut.  The  snowfield 
extended  for  five  miles,  from  ten  to  seventy  feet 
deep,  much  crcvassed,  and  encumbered  with  ava- 
lanches. In  it  the  Dras,  truly  'snow-born,'  appeared, 
issuing  from  a  chasm  under  a  blue  arch  of  ice  and 
snow,  afterwards  to  rage  down  the  valley,  to  be 
forded  many  times  or  crossed  on  snow  bridges.  After 
walking  for  some  time,  and  getting  a  bad  fall  down 
an  avalanche  slope,  I  mounted  Gyalpo,  and  the  clever, 
plucky  fellow  frolicked  over  the  snow,  smelt  and 
leapt  crevasses  which  were  to  3  wide  to  be  stepped 
over,  put  his  forelegs  together  and  slid  down  slopes 
like  a  Swiss  mule,  and,  though  carried  off  his  feet 
in  a  ford  by  the  fierce  surges  of  the  Dras,  struggled 
gamely  to  shore.  Steep  giassy  hills,  and  peaks  with 
gorges  cleft  by  the  thundering  Dras,  and  stretches 
of  rolling  grass  succeeded  each  other.  Then  came 
a  wide  valley  mostly  covered  with  stones  brought 
down  by  torrents,  a  few  plots  of  miserable  barley 
grown  by  irrigation,  and  among  them  two  buildings 
of  round  stones  and  mud,  about  six  feet  high,  with 


THE  START  29 

flat  mud  roofs,  one  of  which  might  be  called  the 
village,  and  the  other  the  caravanserai.  On  the 
village  roof  were  stacks  of  twigs  and  of  the  dried 
dung  of  animals,  which  is  used  for  fuel,  and  the  whole 
female  population,  adult  and  juvenile,  engaged  in 
picking  wool.  The  people  of  thig  village  of  Matayan 
are  Kashmiris.  As  I  bad  an  hour  to  wait  for  m}^ 
tent,  the  women  descended  and  sat  in  a  circle  round 
me  with  a  concentrated  stare.  They  asked  if  I  were 
dumb,  and  why  I  wore  no  earrings  or  necklace,  their 
own  persons  being  loaded  with  heavy  ornaments. 
They  brought  children  afflicted  with  skin-diseases,  and 
asked  for  ointment,  and  on  hearing  that  I  was  hurt 
by  a  fall,  seized  on  my  limbs  and  shampooed  them 
energetically  but  not  undexterously.  I  prefer  their 
sociability  to  the  usual  chilling  aloofness  of  the  people 
of  Kashmir. 

The  Serai  consisted  of  several  dark  and  dirty  cells, 
built  round  a  blazing  piece  of  sloping  dust,  the  only 
camping-ground,  and  under  the  entrance  two  plat- 
forms of  animated  earth,  on  w^hich  my  servants 
cooked  and  slept.  The  next  day  was  Sunday,  sacred 
to  a  bait;  but  there  was  no  fodder  for  the  animals, 
and  we  were  obliged  to  march  to  Dras,  following, 
where  possible,  the  course  of  the  river  of  that  name, 
which    passes    among    highly  -  coloured    and    snow- 


30  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

slashed  mountains,  except  in  places  where  it  suddenly 
finds  itself  pent  between  walls  of  flame-coloured  or 
black  rock,  not  ten  feet  apart,  through  which  it  boils 
and  rages,  forming  gigantic  pot-holes.  With  every 
mile  the  surroundings  became  more  markedly  of  the 
Central  Asian  type.  All  day  long  a  white,  scintillating 
sun  blazes  out  of  a  deep  blue,  rainless,  cloudless  sky. 
The  air  is  exhilarating.  The  traveller  is  conscious  of 
daily-increasing  energy  and  vitality.  There  are  no 
trees,  and  deep  crimson  roses  along  torrent  beds  are 
the  only  shrubs.  But  for  a  brief  fortnight  in  June, 
which  chanced  to  occur  during  my  journey,  the 
valleys  and  lower  slopes  present  a  wonderful  aspect 
of  beauty  and  joyousness.  Rose  and  pale  pink 
primulas  fringe  the  margin  of  the  snow,  the  dainty 
Pedicularis  tuhiflora  covers  moist  spots  with  its 
mantle  of  gold  ;  great  yellow  and  white,  and  small 
purple  and  white  anemones,  pink  and  white  dianthus, 
a  very  large  myosotis,  bringing  the  intense  blue  of 
heaven  down  to  earth,  purple  orchids  by  the  water, 
borage  staining  whole  tracts  deep  blue,  martagon 
lilies,  pale  green  lilies  veined  and  spotted  with  brown, 
yellow,  orange,  and  purple  vetches,  painter's  brush, 
dwarf  dandelions,  white  clover,  filling  the  air  with 
fragrance,  pink  and  cream  asters,  chrysanthemums, 
lychnis,  iiises,    gentian,   artemisia,   and    a    hundred 


THE  START  3I 

others,  form  the  undergrowth  of  millions  of  tall  Um- 
belliferae  and  Compositae,  many  of  them  peach-scented 
and  mostly  yellow.  The  wind  is  always  strong,  and 
the  millions  of  bright  corollas,  drinking  in  the  sun- 
blaze  which  perfects  all  too  soon  their  brief  but 
passionate  existence,  rippled  in  broad  waves  of  colour 
with  an  almost  kaleidoscopic  effect.  About  the 
eleventh  march  from  Srinagar,  at  Kargil,  a  change  for 
the  worse  occurs,  and  the  remaining  marches  to  the 
capital  of  Ladakh  are  over  blazing  gravel  or  surfaces 
of  denuded  rock,  the  singular  CapHfolia  horrida, 
with  its  dark-green  mass  of  wavy  ovate  leaves  on 
trailing  stems,  and  its  fair,  white,  anemone-like 
blossom,  and  the  graceful  Clematis  orientalis,  the 
only  vegetation. 

Crossing  a  raging  affluent  of  the  Dras  by  a  bridge 
which  swayed  and  shivered,  the  top  of  a  steep  hill 
offered  a  view  of  a  great  valley  with  branches  sloping 
up  into  the  ravines  of  a  complexity  of  mountain 
rano;es,  from  18. coo  to  21.000  feet  in  altitude,  with 
glaciers  at  times  descending  as  low  as  11,000  feet  in 
their  hollows.  In  consequence  of  such  possibilities  of 
irrigation,  the  valley  is  green  with  irrigated  grass  and 
barley,  and  villages  with  flat  roofs  scattered  among 
the  crops,  or  perched  on  the  spurs  of  flame-coloured 
mountains,  give  it  a  wild  cheerfulness.     These  Dras 


3*  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

villages  are  inhabited  by  hardy  Dards  and  BaltiSj 
short,  jolly-looking,  darker,  and  far  less  handsome 
than  the  Kashmiris  ;  but,  unlike  them,  they  showed  so 
much  friendliness,  as  well  as  interest  and  curiosity, 
that  I  remained  with  them  for  two  days,  visiting 
their  villages  and  seeing  the  '  sights '  they  had  to  show 
me,  chiefly  a  great  Sikh  fort,  a  yah  bull,  the  zho, 
a  hybrid,  the  interiors  of  their  houses,  a  magnificent 
view  from  a  hilltop,  and  a  Dard  dance  to  the  music 
of  Dard  reed  pipes.  In  return  I  sketched  them  indi- 
vidually and  collectively  as  far  as  time  allowed, 
presenting  them  with  the  results,  truthful  and  ugly. 
I  bought  a  sheep  for  2.9.  ^d.,  and  regaled  the  camp 
upon  it,  the  three  which  were  brought  for  my  in- 
spection being  ridden  by  boys  astride. 

The  evenings  in  the  Dras  valley  were  exquisite. 
As  soon  as  the  sun  went  behind  the  higher  mountains, 
peak  above  peak,  red  and  snow-slashed,  flamed 
against  a  lemon  sky,  the  strong  wind  moderated 
into  a  pure  stiff  breeze,  bringing  up  to  camp  the 
thunder  of  the  Dras,  and  the  musical  tinkle 
of  streams  sparkling  in  absolute  purity.  There 
was  no  more  need  for  boiling  and  filtering.  Icy 
water  could  be  drunk  in  safety  from  every  crystal 
torrent. 

Leaving  behind  the  Dras  villages  and  their  fertility, 


THE  START  33 

the  narrow  road  passes  through  a  flaming  valley 
above  the  Dras,  walled  in  by  bare,  riven,  snow- 
patched  peaks,  with  steep  declivities  of  stones,  huge 
boulders,  decaying  avalanches,  walls  and  spires  of 
rock,  some  vermilion,  others  pink,  a  few  intense 
orange,  some  black,  and  many  plum-coloured,  with 
a  vitrified  look,  only  to  be  represented  by  purple 
madder.  Huge  red  chasms  with  glacier- fed  torrents, 
occasional  snowfields,  intense  solar  heat  radiating 
from  dry  and  verdureless  rock,  a  ravine  so  steep  and 
narrow  that  for  miles  together  there  is  not  space  to 
pitch  a  five-foot  tent,  the  deafening  roar  of  a  river 
gathering  volume  and  fury  as  it  goes,  rare  openings, 
where  willows  are  planted  with  lucerne  in  their 
irrigated  shade,  among  which  the  traveller  camps 
at  night,  and  over  all  a  sky  of  pure,  intense  blue 
purphng  into  starry  night,  were  the  features  of  the 
next  three  marches,  noteworthy  chiefly  for  the  ex- 
change of  the  thundering  Dras  for  the  thundering 
Suru,  and  for  some  bad  bridges  and  infamous  bits 
of  road  before  reaching  Kargil,  where  the  mountains 
swmg  apart,  giving  space  to  several  villages.  Miles 
of  alluvium  are  under  irrigation  there,  poplars, 
willows,  and  apricots  abound,  and  on  some  damp 
sward  under  their  shade  at  a  great  height  I  halted 
for  two  days  to  enjoy  the  magnificence  of  the  scenery 

0 


34  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

and  the  refreshment  of  the  greenery.  These  Kargil 
villages  are  the  capital  of  the  small  State  of  Purik, 
under  the  Governorship  of  Baltistan  or  Little  Tibet, 
and  are  chiefly  inhabited  by  Ladakhis  who  have 
become  converts  to  Islam.  Racial  characteristics, 
dress,  and  manners  are  everywhere  effaced  or  toned 
down  by  Mohammedanism,  and  the  chilling  aloofness 
and  haughty  bearing  of  Islam  were  very  pronounced 
among  these  converts. 

The  daily  routine  of  the  journey  was  as  follows : 
By  six  a.m.  I  sent  on  a  coolie  carrying  the  small  tent 
and  lunch  basket  to  await  me  half-way.  Eefore 
seven  I  started  myself,  with  Usman  Shah  in  front 
of  me,  leaving  the  servants  to  follow  with  the  caravan. 
On  reaching  the  shelter  tent  I  halted  for  two  hours, 
or  till  the  caravan  had  got  a  good  start  after  passing 
me.  At  the  end  of  the  march  I  usually  found  the 
tent  pitched  on  irrigated  ground,  near  a  hamlet,  the 
headman  of  which  provided  milk,  fuel,  fodder,  and 
other  necessaries  at  fixed  prices.  'Afternoon  tea' 
was  speedily  prepared,  and  dinner,  consisting  of 
roast  meat  and  boiled  rice,  was  ready  two  hours  later. 
After  dinner  I  usually  conversed  with  the  head- 
man on  local  interests,  and  was  in  bed  soon  after 
eight.  The  servants  and  muleteers  fed  and  talked 
till  nine,  when  the  sound  of  their  '  hubble-bubbles  * 


THE  START  35 

indicated  that  they  were  going  to  sleep,  like  most 
Orientals,  with  their  heads  closely  covered  with  their 
wadded  quilts.  Before  starting  each  morning  the 
account  was  made  out,  and  I  paid  the  headman 
personally. 

The  vagaries  of  the  Afghan  soldier,  when  they 
were  not  a  cause  of  annoyance,  were  a  constant 
amusement,  though  his  ceaseless  changes  of  finery 
and  the  daily  growth  of  his  baggage  awakened  grave 
suspicions.  The  swashbuckler  marched  four  miles 
an  hour  in  front  of  me  with  a  swinging  military 
stride,  a  large  scimitar  in  a  heavily  ornamented 
scabbard  over  his  shoulder.  Tanned  socks  and 
sandals,  black  or  white  leggings  wound  round  from 
ankle  to  knee  with  broad  bands  of  orange  or  scarlet 
sers^e,  white  cambric  knickerbockers,  a  white  cambric 
shirt,  with  a  short  white  muslin  frock  with  hanging 
sleeves  and  a  leather  girdle  over  it,  a  red-peaked 
cap  with  a  dark-blue  pagri  wound  round  it,  with 
one  end  hanging  over  his  back,  earrings,  a  necklace, 
bracelets,  and  a  profusion  of  rings,  were  his  ordinary 
costume ;  and  in  his  girdle  he  wore  a  dirk  and  a 
revolver,  and  suspended  from  it  a  long  tobacco 
pouch  made  of  the  furry  skin  of  some  animal,  a  large 
leather  purse,  and  etceteras.  As  the  days  went  on 
he    blossomed   into    blue    and    white    muslin    with 

c  2 


36  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

a  scarlet  sash,  wore  a  gold  embroidered  peak  and 
a  huge  white  muslin  turban,  with  much  change  of 
ornaments,  and  appeared  frequently  with  a  great 
bunch  of  poppies  or  a  cluster  of  crimson  roses  sur- 
mounting all.  His  headgear  was  colossal.  It  and 
the  head  together  must  have  been  fully  a  third  of 
his  total  height.  He  was  a  most  fantastic  object, 
and  very  observant  and  skilful  in  his  attentions  to 
me;  but  if  I  had  known  what  I  afterwards  know, 
I  should  have  hesitated  about  taking  these  long 
lonely  marches  with  him  for  my  sole  attendant. 
Between  Hassan  Khan  and  this  Afghan  violent 
hatred  and  jealousy  existed. 

I  have  mentioned  roads,  and  my  road  as  the 
great  caravan  route  from  Western  India  into  Central 
Asia.  This  is  a  fitting  time  for  an  explanation. 
The  traveller  who  aspires  to  reach  the  highlands 
of  Tibet  from  Kashmir  cannot  be  borne  along  in 
a  carriage  or  hill-cart.  For  much  of  the  way  he  is 
limited  to  a  foot  pace,  and  if  iie  has  regard  to  his 
horse  he  walks  down  all  rugged  and  "steep  descents, 
which  are  many,  and  dismounts  at  most  bridges. 
By  '  roads '  must  be  understood  bridle-paths,  worn 
by  traffic  alone  across  the  gravelly  valleys,  but  else- 
where constructed  with  great  toil  and  expense, 
a,s   Nature    compels   the   road-maker   to   follow    her 


THE  START  37 

lead,  and  carry  his  track  along  the  narrow  valleys, 
ravines,  gorges,  and  chasms  which  she  has  marked 
out  for  him.  For  miles  at  a  time  this  road  has  been 
blasted  out  of  precipices  from  i,ooo  feet  to  3,000 
feet  in  depth,  and  is  merely  a  ledge  above  a  raging 
torrent,  the  worst  parts,  chiefly  those  round  rocky 
projections,  being  '  scaffolded,'  i.  e.  poles  are  lodged 
horizontally  among  the  crevices  of  the  cliflf,  and 
the  roadway  of  slabs,  planks,  and  brushwood,  or 
branches  and  sods,  is  laid  loosely  upon  them.  This 
track  is  always  amply  wide  enough  for  a  loaded 
beast,  but  in  many  places,  when  two  caravans  meet, 
the  animals  of  one  must  give  way  and  scramble 
up  the  mountain-side,  where  foothold  is  often 
perilous,  and  always  difficult.  In  passing  a  caravan 
near  Kargil  my  servant's  horse  was  pushed  over 
the  precipice  by  a  loaded  mule  and  drowned  in  the 
Suru,  and  at  another  time  my  Afghan  caused  the 
loss  of  a  baggage  mule  of  a  Leh  caravan  by  driving 
it  off  the  track.  To  scatter  a  caravan  so  as  to 
allow  me  to  pass  in  solitary  dignity  he  regarded  as 
one  of  his  functions,  and  on  one  occasion,  on  a  very 
dangerous  part  of  the  road,  as  he  was  driving  heavily 
laden  mules  up  the  steep  rocks  above,  to  their 
imminent  peril  and  the  distraction  of  their  drivers, 
I  was   obliged   to    strike    up    his  sword  with   my 


38  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

alpenstock  to  emphasise  my  abhorrence  of  his 
violence.  The  bridges  are  unrailed,  and  many  of 
them  are  made  by  placing  two  or  more  logs  across 
the  stream,  laying  twigs  across,  and  covering  these 
with  sods,  but  often  so  scantily  that  the  wild  rush 
of  the  water  is  seen  below.  Primitive  as  these 
bridges  are,  they  involve  great  expense  and  difficulty 
in  the  bringing  of  long  poplar  logs  for  great  distances 
along  narrow  mountain  tracks  by  coolie  labour,  fifty 
men  being  required  for  the  average  log.  The  Ladakhi 
roads  are  admirable  as  compared  with  those  of 
Kashmir,  and  are  being  constantly  improved  under 
the  supervision  of  H.  B.  M.'s  Joint  Commissioner 
in  Leh. 

Up  to  Kargil  the  scenery,  though  growing  more 
Tibetan  with  every  march,  had  exhibited  at  inter- 
vals some  traces  of  natural  verdure ;  but  beyond, 
after  leaving  the  Suru,  there  is  not  a  green  thing, 
and  on  the  next  march  the  road  crosses  a  lofty, 
sandy  plateau,  on  which  the  heat  was  terrible — 
blazing  gravel  and  a  blazing  heaven,  then  fiery  cliffs 
and  scorched  hillsides,  then  a  deep  ravine  and  the 
large  village  of  Paskim  (dominated  by  a  fort- crowned 
rock),  and  some  planted  and  irrigated  acres  ;  then 
a  narrow  ravine  and  magnificent  scenery  flaming 
with  colour,  which  opens  out  after  some  miles  on 


THE  START  39 

■  a  burning  chaos  of  rocks  and  sand,  mountain-girdled, 
and  on  some  remarkable  dwellings  on  a  steep  slope, 
with  religious  buildings  singularly  painted.  This  is 
Shergol,  the  first  village  of  Buddhists,  and  there  I  was 
'  among  the  Tibetans.' 


CHAPTER  II 


SHERGOL     AND     LEH 


The  chaos  of  rocks  and  sand,  walled  in  by  vermilion 
and  orange  mountains,  on  which  the  village  of  Shergol 
stands,  offered  no  facilities  for  camping ;  but  somehow 
the  men  managed  to  pitch  my  tent  on  a  steep  slope, 
where  I  had  to  place  my  trestle  bed  astride  an  irriga- 
tion channel,  down  which  the  water  bubbled  noisily, 
on  its  way  to  keep  alive  some  miserable  patches  of 
barley.  At  Shergol  and  elsewhere  fodder  is  so  scarce 
that  the  grain  is  not  cut,  but  pulled  up  by  the  roots. 

The  intensely  human  interest  of  the  journey  began 
at  that  point.  Not  greater  is  the  contrast  between 
the  grassy  slopes  and  deodar  clothed  mountains  of 
Kashmir  and  the  flaming  aridity  of  Lesser  Tibet, 
than  between  the  tall,  dark,  handsome  natives  of  the 
one,  with  their  statuesque  and  shrinking  women,  and 
the  ugly,  short,  squat,  yellow-skinned,  flat-nosed, 
oblique-eyed,  uncouth-looking  people  of  the   other. 


SHERCOL  AND  LEH  4I 

The  Kashmiris  are  false,  cringing,  and  suspicious; 
the  Tibetans  truthful,  independent,  and  friendly,  one 
of  the  pleasantest  of  peoples.  I  '  took '  to  them  at 
once  at  Shergol,  and  terribly  faulty  though  their 
morals  are  in  some  respects,  I  found  no  reason  to 
change  my  good  opinion  of  them  in  the  succeeding 
four  months. 

The  headman  or  go-pa  came  to  see  me,  introduced 
me  to  the  objects  of  interest,  which  are  a  gonpo,  or 
monastery,  built  into  the  rock,  with  a  brightly  coloured 
front,  and  three  chod-tens,  or  relic-holders,  painted 
blue,  red,  and  yellow,  and  daubed  with  coarse  ara- 
besques and  representations  of  deities,  one  having 
a  striking  resemblance  to  Mr.  Gladstone.  The  houses 
are  of  mud,  w^ith  flat  roofs  ;  but,  being  summer,  many 
of  them  were  roofless,  the  poplar  rods  which  support 
the  mud  having  been  used  for  fuel.  Conical  stacks 
of  the  dried  excreta  of  animals,  the  chief  fuel  of  the 
country,  adorned  the  roofs,  but  the  general  aspect  was 
ruinous  and  poor.  The  people  all  invited  me  into 
their  dark  and  dirty  rooms,  inhabited  also  by  goats, 
offered  tea  and  cheese,  and  felt  my  clothes.  They 
looked  the  wildest  of  savages,  but  they  are  not.  No 
house  was  so  poor  as  not  to  have  its  '  family  altar,' 
its  shelf  of  wooden  gods,  and  table  of  offerings. 
A  religious  atmosphere  pervades  Tibet,  and  gives  it 


42 


AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 


a  singular  sense  of  novelty.  Not  only  were  there 
chod-tens  and  a  gonpo  in  this  poor  place,  and  family 
altars,  but  prayer- wheels,  i.e.  wooden  cylinders  filled 
with  rolls  of  paper  inscribed  with  prayers,  revolving 
on  sticks,  to  be  turned  by  passers-by,  inscribed  cotton 
bannerets  on  poles  planted  in  cairns,  and  on  the  roofs 


A    HAND   PRAYER-CTLINDEB 


long  sticks,  to  which  strips  of  cotton  bearing  the 
universal  prayer,  Aum  mani  padne  hun  (0  jewel  of 
the  lotus-flovrer),  are  attached.  As  these  wave  in  the 
wind  the  occupants  of  the  house  gain  the  merit  of 
repeating  this  sentence. 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  43 

The  remainirg  marches  to  Leh,  the  capital  of  Lesser 
Tibet,  were  full  of  fascination  and  novelty.  Every- 
where the  Tibetans  were  friendly  and  cordial.  In 
each  village  I  was  invited  to  the  headman's  house, 
and  taken  by  him  to  visit  the  chief  inhabitants ; 
every  traveller,  lay  and  clerical,  passed  by  with  the 
cheerful  salutation  Tzu^  asked  me  where  I  came  from 
and  whither  I  was  going,  wished  me  a  good  journey, 
admired  Gyalpo,  and  when  he  scaled  rock  ladders  and 
scrambled  gamely  through  difficult  torrents,  cheered 
him  like  Englishmen,  the  general  jollity  and  cordiality 
of  manners  contrasting  cheerily  with  the  chilling 
aloofness  of  Moslems. 

The  irredeemable  ugliness  of  the  Tibetans  produced 
a  deeper  impression  daily.  It  is  grotesque,  and  is 
heightened,  not  modified,  by  their  costume  and  orna- 
ment. They  have  high  cbeekbones,  broad  flat  noses 
without  visible  bridges,  small,  dark,  oblique  eyes, 
with  heavy  lids  and  imperceptible  eyebrows,  wide 
mouths,  full  lips,  thick,  big,  projecting  ears,  deformed 
by  great  hoops,  straight  black  hair  nearly  as  coarse 
as  horsehair,  and  short,  square,  ungainly  figures.  The 
faces  of  the  men  are  smooth.  The  women  seldom 
exceed  five  feet  in  height,  and  a  man  is  tall  at  five 
feet  four. 

The  male  costume  is  a  long,   loose,  woollen  coat 


44  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

with  a  girdle,  trousers,  under -garments,  woollen 
leggings,  and  a  cap  with  a  turned-up  point  over  each 
ear.  The  girdle  is  the  depository  of  many  things 
dear  to  a  Tibetan  —  his  purse,  rude  knife,  heavy 
tinder-hox,  tobacco  pouch,  pipe,  distaff,  and  sundry 
charms  and  amulefs.  In  the  capacious  breast  of  his 
coat  he  carries  wool  for  spinning — for  he  spins  as  he 
walks — balls  of  cold  barley  dough,  and  much  besides. 
He  wears  his  hair  in  a  piL,tail.  The  women  wear 
short,  big-sleeved  jackets,  shortish,  full-plaited  skirts, 
tight  trousers  a  yard  too  long,  the  superfluous  length 
forming  folds  above  the  ankle,  a  sheepskin  with  the 
fur  outside  hangs  over  the  back,  and  on  gala  occasions 
a  sort  of  drapery  is  worn  over  the  usual  dress.  Felt 
or  straw  shoes  and  many  heavy  ornaments  are  worn 
by  both  sexes.  Great  ears  of  brocade,  lined  and 
edged  with  fur  and  attached  to  the  hair,  are  worn  by 
the  women.  Theii'  hair  is  dressed  once  a  month  in 
many  much-greased  plaits,  fastened  together  at  the 
back  by  a  long  tassel.  The  head-dress  is  a  strip  of 
cloth  or  leather,  sewn  over  with  large  turquoises, 
carbuncles,  and  silver  ornaments.  This  hangs  in 
a  point  over  the  brow,  broadens  over  the  top  of  the 
head,  and  tapers  as  it  reaches  the  waist  behind.  The 
ambition  of  every  Tibetan  girl  is  centred  in  this 
singular  headgear.      Hoops  in   the   ears,    necklaces, 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH 


45 


amulets,  clasps,  bangles  of  brass  or  silver,  and  various 
implements  stuck  in  the  girdle  and  depending  from 
it,  complete  a  costume  pre-eminent  in  ugliness.     The 


TIBETAN    GIEIi 


Tibetans  are   dirty.     They  wash   once  a  year,  and, 
except  for  festivals,  seldom  change  their  clothes  till 


46  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

they  begin  to  drop  off.  They  are  healthy  and  hardy, 
even  the  women  can  carry  weights  of  sixty  pounds 
over  the  passes ;  they  attain  extreme  old  age ;  their 
voices  are  harsh  and  loud,  and  their  laughter  is  noisy 
and  hearty. 

After  leaving  Shergol  the  signs  of  Buddhism  were 
universal  and  imposing,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of 
the  whole  of  the  inhabited  part  of  Lesser  Tibet. 
Colossal  figures  of  Shakya  Thubba  (Euddha)  are 
carved  on  faces  of  rock,  or  in  wood,  stone,  or  gilded 
copper  sit  on  lotus  thrones  in  endless  calm  near 
villages  of  votaries.  Ckod-tens  from  twenty  to 
a  hundred  feet  in  height,  dedicated  to  '  holy '  men, 
are  scattered  over  elevated  ground,  or  in  imposing 
avenues  line  the  approaches  to  hamlets  and  goiipos. 
There  are  also  countless  manis,  dykes  of  stone  from 
six  to  sixteen  feet  in  width  and  from  twenty  feet  to 
a  fourth  of  a  mile  in  length,  roofed  with  flattish  stones, 
inscribed  by  the  lamas  (monks)  with  the  phrase  Aum, 
&c.,  and  purchased  and  deposited  by  those  who  wish 
to  obtain  any  special  benefit  from  the  gods,  such  as 
a  safe  journey.  Then  there  are  prayer-mills,  some- 
times 150  in  a  row,  which  revolve  easily  by  being 
brushed  by  the  hand  of  the  passer-by,  larger  prayer- 
cylinders  which  are  turned  by  pulling  ropes,  and 
others  larger  still  by  water-power.     The  finest  of  the 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  47 

latter  was  in  a  temple  overarching  a  perennial  tor- 
rent, and  was  said  to  contain  20.000  repetitions  of 
the  mystic  phrase,  the  fee  to  the  worshipper  for  each 
revolution  of  the  cylinder  being  from  \d.  to  is.  ^d., 
according  to  his  means  or  urgency. 

The  glory  and  pride  of  Ladak  and  Nubra  are  the 
gonpos,  of  which  the  illustrations  give  a  slight  idea. 
Their  picturesqueness  is  absolutely  enchanting.  They 
are  vast  irregular  piles  of  fantastic  buildings,  almost 
invariably  crowning  lofty  isolated  rocks  or  mountain 
spurs,  reached  by  steep,  rude  rock  staircases,  chod- 
teris  below  and  battlemented  towers  above,  with 
temples,  domes,  bridges  over  chasms,  spires,  and 
scaffolded  projections  gleaming  with  gold,  looking, 
as  at  Lamayuru,  the  outgrowth  of  the  rock  itself. 
The  outer  walls  are  usually  whitewashed,  and  red, 
yellow,  and  brown  wooden  buildings,  broad  bands 
of  red  and  blue  on  the  whitewash,  tridents,  prayer- 
mills,  yaks'  tails,  and  flags  on  poles  give  colour  and 
movement,  while  the  jangle  of  cymbals,  the  ringing 
of  bells,  the  incessant  beating  of  big  drums  and 
gongs,  and  the  braying  at  intervals  of  six-foot  silver 
horns,  attest  the  ritualistic  activities  of  the  com- 
munities within.  The  gonpos  contain  from  two  up 
to  three  hundred  lamas.  These  are  not  cloistered, 
and  their  duties  take  them  freely  among  the  people, 


48  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

with  whom  they  are  closely  linked,  a  younger  son 
in  every  family  being  a  monk.  Every  act  in  trade, 
ao-riculture,  and  social  life  needs  the  sanction  of 
sacerdotalism,  whatever  exists  of  wealth  is  in  the 
gonpos,  which  also  have  a  monopoly  of  learning,  and 
11,000  monks,  linked  with  the  people,  yet  ruling  all 
affairs  of  life  and  death  and  beyond  death,  are  con- 
nected closely  by  education,  tradition,  aad  authority 
with  Lhassa. 

Passing  along  faces  of  precipices  and  over  water- 
less plateaux  of  blazing  red  gravel — '  waste  places,' 
truly — the  journey  was  cheered  by  the  meeting  of 
red  and  yellow  lamas  in  companies,  each  lama 
twirling  his  prayer-cylinder,  abbots,  and  skushoJcs 
(the  latter  believed  to  be  incarnations  of  Buddha) 
with  many  retainers,  or  gay  groups  of  priestly 
students,  intoning  in  harsh  and  high-pitched  mono- 
tones, Aum  mani  padne  hun.  And  so  past  fasci- 
nating monastic  buildings,  through  crystal  torrents 
rushing  over  red  rock,  through  flaming  ravines,  on 
rock  ledges  by  scaffolded  paths,  camping  in  the 
afternoons  near  friendly  villages  on  oases  of  irrigated 
alluvium,  and  down  the  Wanla  water  by  the  steepest 
and  narrowest  cleft  ever  used  for  traffic,  I  reached 
the  Indus,  crossed  it  by  a  wooden  bridge  where 
its   broad,  fierce   current   is    narrowed   by   rocks  to 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  49 

a  width  of  sixty-five  feet,  and  entered  Ladak  proper. 
A  picturesque  fort  guards  the  bridge,  and  there 
travellers  inscribe  their  names  and  are  reported  to 
Leh.  I  camped  at  Khalsi,  a  mile  higher,  but 
returned  to  the  bridge  in  the  evening  to  sketch,  if 
I  could,  the  grim  nudity  and  repulsive  horror  of  the 
surrounding  mountains,  attended  only  by  Usman 
Shah.  A  few  months  earlier,  this  ruffian  was  sent 
down  from  Leh  with  six  other  soldiers  and  an  officer 
to  guard  the  fort,  where  they  became  the  terror  of 
all  who  crossed  the  bridge  by  their  outrageous  levies 
of  blackmail.  My  swashbuckler  quarrelled  with  the 
officer  over  a  disreputable  aflfair,  and  one  night 
stabbed  him  mortally,  induced  his  six  comrades  to 
plunge  their  knives  into  the  body,  sewed  it  up  in 
a  blanket,  and  threw  it  into  the  Indus,  which  dis- 
gorged it  a  little  lower  down.  The  men  were  all 
arrested  and  marched  to  Srinagar,  where  Usman 
turned  'king's  evidence.' 

The  remaining  marches  were  alongside  of  the 
tremendous  granite  ranges  which  divide  the  Indus 
from  its  great  tributary,  the  Shayok.  Colossal 
scenery,  desperate  aridity,  tremendous  solar  heat, 
and  an  atmosphere  highly  rarefied  and  of  nearly 
intolerable  dryness,  were  the  chief  characteristics. 
At  these  Tibetan  altitudes,  where  the  valleys  exceed 

P 


50  AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 

iTjOoo  feet,  the  sun's  rays  are  even  more  powerful 
than  on  the  '  burning  plains  of  India.'  The  day 
■wind,  rising  at  9  a.m.,  and  only  falling  near  sunset, 
blows  with  great  heat  and  force.  The  solar  heat  at 
noon  was  from  120°  to  130°,  and  at  night  the 
mercury  frequently  fell  below  the  freezing  point. 
I  did  not  suffer  from  the  climate,  but  in  the  case 
of  most  Europeans  the  air  passages  become  irritated, 
the  skin  cracks,  and  after  a  time  the  action  of  the 
heart  is  affected.  The  hair  when  released  stands  out 
from  the  head,  leather  shrivels'  and  splits,  horn 
combs  break  to  pieces,  food  dries  up,  rapid  evapora- 
tion renders  water-colour  sketching  nearly  impossible, 
and  tea  made  with  water  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
below  the  boiling-point  of  aia  degrees,  is  flavourless 
and  flat. 

After  a  delightful  journey  of  twenty-five  days 
I  camped  at  Spitak,  among  the  chod-tens  and  manis 
which  cluster  round  the  base  of  a  lofty  and  isolated 
rock,  crowned  with  one  of  the  most  striking  monas- 
teries in  Ladak,  and  very  early  the  next  morning, 
under  a  sun  of  terrific  fierceness,  rode  up  a  five-mile 
slope  of  blazing  gravel  to  the  goal  of  my  long  march. 
Even  at  a  short  distance  off,  the  Tibetan  capital 
can  scarcely  be  distinguished  from  the  bare,  ribbed, 
scored,   jagged,   vermilion    and    rose-red   mountains 


'f    "V^-t^^' 


I    1 


^HVV  = 


D  2 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  53 

which  nearly  surround  it,  were  it  not  for  the  palace 
of  the  former  kings  or  Gyalpos  of  Ladak,  a  huge 
building  attaining  ten  storeys  in  height,  with  massive 
walls  sloping  inwards,  while  long  balconies  and 
galleries,  carved  projections  of  brown  wood,  and 
prominent  windows,  give  it  a  singular  picturesque- 
ness.  It  can  be  seen  for  many  miles,  and  dwarfs 
the  little  Central  Asian  town  which  clusters  round 
its  base. 

Lonsr  lines  of  chod-tens  and  manis  mark  the 
approach  to  Leh.  Then  come  barley  fields  and 
poplar  and  willow  plantations,  bright  streams  are 
crossed,  and  a  small  gateway,  within  which  is 
a  colony  of  very  poor  Baltis,  gives  access  to  the 
city.  In  consequence  of  '  the  vigilance  of  the  guard 
at  the  bridge  of  Khalsi,'  I  was  expected,  and  was 
met  at  the  gate  by  the  wazir's  jeimadar,  or  head  of 
police,  in  artistic  attire,  with  spahis  in  apricot 
turbans,  violet  chogas,  and  green  leggings,  who 
cleared  the  way  with  spears,  Gyalpo  frolicking  as 
merrily  and  as  ready  to  bite,  and  the  Afghan 
striding  in  front  as  firmly,  as  though  they  had  not 
marched  for  twenty-five  days  through  the  rugged 
passes  of  the  Himalayas.  In  such  wise  I  was 
escorted  to  a  shady  bungalow  of  three  rooms,  in 
the  grounds  of  H.  B.  M.'s  Joint  Commissioner,  who 


54  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

lives  at  Leh  during  the  four  months  of  the  *  caravan 
season,'  to  assist  in  regulating  the  traffic  and  to 
guard  the  interests  of  the  numerous  British  subjects 
who  pass  through  Leh  with  merchandise.  For  their 
benefit  also,  the  Indian  Government  aids  in  the 
support  of  a  small  hospital,  open,  however,  to  all, 
which,  with  a  large]y  attended  dispensary,  is  under 
the  charge  of  a  Moravian  medical  missionary. 

Just  outside  the  Commissioner's  grounds  are  two 
very  humble  whitewashed  dwellings,  with  small 
gardens  brilliant  with  European  flowers ;  and  in 
these  the  two  Moravian  missionaries,  the  only 
permanent  European  residents  in  Leh,  were  living, 
Mr.  Redslob  and  Dr.  Karl  Marx,  with  their  wives. 
Dr.  Marx  was  at  his  gate  to  welcome  me. 

To  these  two  men,  especially  the  former,  I  owe 
a  debt  of  gratitude  which  in  no  shape,  not  even  by 
the  hearty  acknowledgment  of  it,  can  ever  be  repaid, 
for  they  died  within  a  few  days  of  each  other,  of  an 
epidemic,  last  year,  Dr.  Marx  and  a  new-born  son 
being  buried  in  one  grave.  For  twenty-five  years 
Mr.  Redslob,  a  man  of  noble  physique  and  intellect, 
a  scholar  and  linguist,  an  expert  botanist  and  an 
admirable  artist,  devoted  himself  to  the  welfare  of 
the  Tibetans,  and  though  his  great  aim  was  to 
Christianize    them,    he   gained    their  confidence    so 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  55 

thoroughly  by  his  virtues,  kindness,  profound  Tibetan 
scholarship,  and  manliness,  that  he  was  loved  and 
welcomed  everywhere,  and  is  now  mourned  for  as 
the  best  and  truest  friend  the  people  ever  had. 

I  had  scarcely  finished  breakfast  when  he  called; 
a  man  of  great  height  and  strong  voice,  with 
a  cheery  manner,  a  face  beaming  with  kindness, 
and  speaking  excellent  English.  Leh  was  the  goal 
of  my  journey,  but  Mr.  Redslob  came  with  a  proposal 
to  escort  me  over  the  great  passes  to  the  northward 
for  a  three  weeks'  journey  to  Nubra,  a  district  formed 
of  the  combined  valleys  of  the  Shay  ok  and  Nubra 
rivers,  tributaries  of  the  Indus,  and  abounding  in 
interest.  Of  course  I  at  once  accepted  an  offer  so 
full  of  advantages,  and  the  performance  was  better 
even  than  the  promise. 

Two  days  were  occupied  in  making  preparations, 
but  afterwards  I  spent  a  fortnight  in  my  tent  at  Leh, 
a  city  by  no  means  to  be  passed  over  without  remark, 
for,  though  it  and  the  region  of  which  it  is  the  capital 
are  very  remote  from  the  thoughts  of  most  readers,  it 
is  one  of  the  centres  of  Central  Asian  commerce.  There 
all  traders  from  India,  Kashmir,  and  Afghanistan 
must  halt  for  animals  and  supplies  on  their  way 
to  Yarkand  and  Khotan,  and  there  also  merchants 
from    the    mysterious    city    of    Lhassa  do  a   great 


55  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

business  in  brick   tea   and  in  Lhassa  wares,  chiefly 
ecclesiastical. 

The  situation  of  Leh  is  a  grand  one,  the  great  Kailas 
range,  with  its  glaciers  and  snowfields,  rising  just 
behind  it  to  the  north,  its  passes  alone  reaching  an 
altitude  of  nearly  18,000  feet;  while  to  the  south, 
across  a  gravelly  descent  and  the  Indus  Valley,  rise 
great  red  ranges  dominated  by  snow-peaks  exceeding 
a  1, 000  feet  in  altitude.  The  centre  of  Leh  is  a  wide 
bazaar,  where  much  polo  is  played  in  the  afternoons ; 
and  above  this  the  irregular,  flat-roofed,  many-bal- 
conied houses  of  the  town  cluster  round  the  palace 
and  a  gigantic  chad-ten  alongside  it.  The  rugged 
crest  of  the  rock  on  a  spur  of  which  the  palace  stands 
is  crowned  by  the  fantastic  buiklings  of  an  ancient 
gonpo.  Beyond  the  crops  and  plantations  which  sur- 
round the  town  lies  a  flaming  desert  of  gravel  or  rock. 
The  architectural  features  of  Leh,  except  of  the  palace, 
are  mean.  A  new  mosque  glaring  with  vulgar  colour, 
a  treasury  and  court  of  justice,  the  wazir's  bungalow, 
a  Moslem  cemetery,  and  Buddhist  cremation  grounds, 
in  which  each  family  has  its  separate  burning  place, 
are  all  that  is  noteworthy.  The  narrow  alleys,  which 
would  be  abominably  dirty  if  dirt  were  possible  in 
a  climate  of  such  intense  dryness,  house  a  very  mixed 
population,  in  which  the  Moslem  element  is  always 


^-^^j    —  -^    ,  =)i5'i     ami  ^  IS       T*^ 


JOB         1  "IIBB/   \1    t->l^»^<   1 


\j 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  59 

increasing,  partly  owing  to  the  renewal  of  that  prose- 
lytising energy  which  is  making  itself  felt  throughout 
Asia,  and  partly  to  the  marriages  of  Moslem  traders 
with  Ladaki  women,  who  embrace  the  faith  of  their 
husbands  and  bring  up  their  families  in  the  same. 

On  my  arrival  few  of  the  shops  in  the  great  'place 
or  bazaar,  were  open,  and  there  was  no  business;  but 
a  fev/  weeks  later  the  little  desert  capital  nearly 
doubled  its  population,  and  during  August  the  diu 
and  stir  of  trade  and  amusements  ceased  not  by  day 
or  night,  and  the  shifting  scenes  were  as  gay  in 
colouring  and  as  full  of  variety  as  could  be  desired. 

Great  caravans  en  route  for  Khotan,  Yarkand,  and 
even  Chinese  Tibet  arrived  daily  from  Kashmir,  the 
Panjab,  and  Afghanistan,  and  stacked  their  bales  of 
goods  in  the  place  \  the  Lhassa  traders  opened  shops 
in  which  the  specialties  were  brick  tea  and  instru- 
ments of  worship ;  merchants  from  Amritsar,  Cabul, 
Bokhara,  and  Yarkand,  stately  in  costume  and  gait, 
thronged  the  bazaar  and  opened  bales  of  costly  goods 
in  tantalising  fashion ;  mules,  asses,  horses,  and  yalcs 
kicked,  squealed,  and  bellowed ;  the  dissonance  of 
bargaining  tongues  rose  high ;  there  were  mendicant 
monks,  Indian  fakirs, Moslem  dervishes, Mecca  pilgrims, 
itinerant  musicians,  and  Buddhist  ballad  howlers ; 
bold-faced  women  with  creels  on  their  backs  brought 


6o  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

in  lucerne ;  Ladakis,  Baltis,  and  Lahulis  tended  the 
beasts,  and  the  wazir's  jemadar  and  gay  spahis  moved 
about  among  the  throngs.  In  the  midst  of  this  pic- 
turesque confusion,  the  short,  square-built,  Lhassa 
traders,  who  face  the  blazing  sun  in  heavy  winter 
clothing,  exchange  their  expensive  tea  for  Nubra  and 
Baltistan  dried  apricots,  Kashmir  saffron,  and  rich 
stuffs  from  India ;  and  merchants  from  Yarkand  on 
big  Turkestan  horses  offer  hemp,  which  is  smoked  as 
opium,  and  Russian  trifles  and  dress  goods,  under 
cloudless  skies.  With  the  huge  Kailas  range  as 
a  background,  this  great  rendezvous  of  Central  Asian 
traffic  has  a  great  fascination,  even  though  moral 
shadows  of  the  darkest  kind  abound. 

On  the  second  morning,  while  I  was  taking  the 
sketch  of  Usman  Shah  which  appears  as  the  frontis- 
piece, he  was  recognised  both  by  the  Joint  Com- 
missioner and  the  chief  of  police  as  a  mutineer  and 
murderer,  and  was  marched  out  of  Leh.  I  was  asked 
to  look  over  my  baggage,  but  did  not.  I  had  trusted 
him,  he  had  been  faithful  in  his  way,  and  later  I  found 
•ihat  nothing  was  missing.  He  was  a  brutal  ruffian, 
me  of  a  band  of  irregulars  sent  by  the  Maharajah  of 
Kashmir  to  garrison  the  fort  at  Leh.  From  it  they 
ased  to  descend  on  the  town,  plunder  the  bazaar, 
insult  the  women,  take  aU  they  wanted  without  pay- 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  6l 

ment,  and  when  one  of  their  number  was  being  tried 
for  some  offence,  they  dragged  the  judge  out  of  court 
and  beat  him !  After  holding  Leh  in  terror  for  some 
time  the  British  Commissioner  obtained  their  removal. 
It  was,  however,  at  the  fort  at  the  Indus  bridge,  as 
related  before,  that  the  crime  of  murder  was  com- 
mitted. Still  there  was  something  almost  grand  in 
the  defiant  attitude  of  the  fantastic  swashbuckler, 
as,  standing  outside  the  bungalow,  he  faced  the  British 
Commissioner,  to  him  the  embodiment  of  all  earthly 
power,  and  the  chief  of  police,  and  defied  them.  Not 
an  inch  would  he  stir  till  the  wazir  gave  him  a  coolie 
to  carry  his  baggage.  He  had  been  acquitted  of  the 
murder,  he  said,  '  and  though  I  killed  the  man,  it  was 
according  to  the  custom  of  my  country — he  gave  me 
an  insult  which  could  only  be  wiped  out  in  blood ! ' 
The  guard  dared  not  touch  him,  and  he  went  to  the 
wazir,  demanded  a  coolie,  and  got  one  1 

Our  party  left  Leh  early  on  a  glorious  morning, 
travelling  light,  Mr.  Redslob,  a  very  learned  Lhassa 
monk,  named  Gergan,  Mr.  R.'s  servant,  my  three,  and 
four  baggage  horses,  with  two  drivers  engaged  for  the 
journey.  The  great  Kailas  range  was  to  be  crossed, 
and  the  first  day's  march  up  long,  barren,  stony  valleys, 
without  interest,  took  us  to  a  piece  of  level  ground, 
with   a   smaU   semi-subterranean  refuge   on  which 


62  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

there  was  barely  room  for  two  tents,  at  the  altitude 
of  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc.  For  two  hours  before 
we  reached  it  the  men  and  animals  showed  great 
distress.  Gyalpo  stopped  every  few  yards,  gasping, 
with  blood  trickling  from  his  nostrils,  and  turned  his 
head  so  as  to  look  at  me,  witli  the  question  in  his  eyes, 
What  does  this  mean?  Hassan  Khan  was  reeling 
from  vertigo,  but  would  not  give  in ;  the  seis,  a  creature 
without  pluck,  was  carried  in  a  blanket  slung  on  my 
tent  pules,  and  even  the  Tibetans  suffered.  I  felt  no 
inconvenience,  but  as  I  unsaddled  Gyalpo  I  was  glad 
that  there  was  no  more  work  to  do  !  This  '  mountain- 
sickness,'  called  by  the  natives  ladug,  or  'pass-poison,' 
is  supposed  by  them  to  be  the  result  of  the  odour  or 
pollen  of  certain  plants  which  grow  on  the  passes. 
Horses  and  mules  are  unable  to  carry  their  loads,  and 
men  suffer  from  vertigo,  vomiting,  violent  headache 
and  bleedins  from  the  nose,  mouth,  and  ears,  as  well 
as  prostration  of  strength,  sometimes  complete,  and 
occasionally  ending  fatally. 

After  a  bitterly  cold  night  I  was  awakened  at  dawn 
by  novel  sounds,  gruntings,  and  low,  resonant  bel- 
lowing round  my  tent,  and  the  grey  light  revealed 
several  yahs  (the  Bos  grunniens,  the  Tibetan  ox),  the 
pride  of  the  Tibetan  highlands.  This  magnificent 
animal,  though  not  exceeding  an  English  shorthorn 


SHERGOL  AND  LEU  6^ 

cow  in  height,  looks  gigantic,  with  his  thick  curved 
horns,  his  wild  eyes  glaring  from  under  a  mass  of 
curls,  his  long  thick  hair  hanging  to  his  fetlocks,  and 
his  huge  bushy  tail.  He  is  usually  black  or  tawny, 
but  the  tail  is  often  white,  and  is  the  length  of  his 
long  hair.  The  nose  is  fine  and  has  a  look  of  breeding 
as  well  as  power.  He  only  flourishes  at  altitudes 
exceeding  12,000  feet.  Even  after  generations  of 
semi-domestication  he  is  very  wild,  and  can  only  be 
managed  by  being  led  with  a  rope  attached  to  a  ring 
in  the  nostrils.  He  disdains  the  plough,  but  conde- 
scends to  carry  burdens,  and  numbers  of  the  Ladak 
and  Nubra  people  get  their  living  by  carrying  goods 
for  the  traders  on  his  broad  back  over  the  great  passes. 
His  legs  are  very  short,  and  he  has  a  sensible  way  of 
measuring  distance  with  his  eyes  and  planting  his 
feet,  which  enables  him  to  carry  loads  where  it  might 
be  supposed  that  only  a  goat  could  climb.  He  picks 
up  a  living  anyhow,  in  that  respect  resembling  the 
camel. 

He  has  an  uncertain  temper,  and  is  not  favourably- 
disposed  towards  his  rider.  Indeed,  my  experience 
was  that  just  as  one  was  about  to  mount  him  he 
usually  made  a  lunge  at  one  wdth  his  horns.  Some 
of  my  yak  steeds  shied,  plunged,  kicked,  executed 
fantastic  movements    on   the    ledges   of    precipices. 


64  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

knocked  down  their  leaders,  bellowed  defiance,  and 
rushed  madly  down  mountain  sides,  leaping  from 
boulder  to  boulder,  till  they  landed  me  among  their 
fellows.  The  rush  of  a  herd  of  bellowing  yahs  at  a 
wild  gallop,  waving  their  huge  tails,  is  a  grand  sight. 
My  first  yah  was  fairly  quiet,  and  looked  a  noble 
steed,  with  my  Mexican  saddle  and  gay  blanket 
among  rather  than  upon  his  thick  black  locks.  His 
back  seemed  as  broad  as  that  of  an  elephant,  and 
with  his  slow,  sure,  resolute  step,  he  was  like  a 
mountain  in  motion.  We  tcok  five  hours  for  the 
ascent  of  the  Digar  Pass,  our  loads  and  some  of  us 
on  yaks,  some  walking,  and  those  who  suflfered  most 
from  the  '  pass-poison  '  and  could  not  sit  on  yahs 
were  carried.  A  number  of  Tibetans  went  up  with 
us.  It  was'a  new  thing  for  a  European  lady  to  travel 
in  Nubra,  and  they  took  a  friendly  interest  in  my 
getting  through  all  right.  The  dreary  stretches  of 
the  ascent,  though  at  first  white  with  edelweiss,  of 
which  the  people  make  their  tinder,  are  surmounted 
for  the  most  part  by  steep,  short  zigzags  of  broken 
stone.  The  heavens  were  dark  with  snow-showers, 
the  wind  was  high  and  the  cold  severe,  and  gasping 
horses,  and  men  prostrate  on  their  faces  unable  to 
move,  suggested  a  considerable  amount  of  sufiering; 
but    all    safely    reached    the    summit,   I7>930   feet, 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  65 

where  in  a  snowstorm  the  guides  huzzaed,  praised 
their  gods,  and  tucked  rag  streamers  into  a  cairn. 
The  loads  were  replaced  on  the  horses,  and  over 
wastes  of  ice,  across  snowfields  margined  by  broad 
splashes  of  rose-red  primulas,  down  desert  valleys 
and  along  irrigated  hillsides,  we  descended  3,700 
feet  to  the  village  of  Digar  in  Nubra,  where  under 
a  cloudless  sky  the  mercury  stood  at  90"" ! 

Upper  and  Lower  Nubra  consist  of  the  valleys  of 
the  Nubra  and  Shay  ok  rivers.  These  are  deep, 
fierce,  variable  streams,  which  have  buried  the  lower 
levels  under  great  stretches  of  shingle,  patched  with 
jungles  of  Idppophae  and  tamarisk,  affording  cover 
for  innumerable  wolves.  Great  lateral  torrents  de- 
scend to  these  rivers,  and  on  alluvial  ridges  formed 
at  the  junctions  are  the  villages  with  their  pleasant 
surroundings  of  barley,  lucerne,  wheat,  with  poplar 
and  fruit  trees,  and  their  picturesque  gonpos  crown- 
ing spurs  of  rock  above  them.  The  first  view  of 
Nubra  is  not  beautiful.  Yellow,  absolutely  barren 
mountains,  cleft  by  yellow  gorges,  and  apparently 
formed  of  yellow  gravel,  the  huge  rifts  in  their  sides 
alone  showing  their  substructure  of  rock,  look  as  if 
they  had  never  been  finished,  or  had  been  finished 
so  long  that  they  had  returned  to  chaos.  These 
hem  in  a  valley  of  grey  sand  and  shingle,  threaded 

E 


66 


AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 


by  a  greyish  stream.  From  the  second  view  point 
mountains  are  seen  descending  on  a  pleasanter  part 
of  the  Shayok  valley  in  grey,  yellow,  or  vermilion 
masses  of  naked  rock,  7.000  and  8,000  feet  in  height, 


1i  ^f'.f 


A    LHOL    lh> 


above  which  rise  snow-capped  peaks  sending  out  fan- 
tastic spurs  and  buttresses,  while  the  colossal  walls 
of  rock   are  cleft  by  rifts  as  colossal.     The  central 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  67 

ridge  between  the  Nubra  and  Upper  Shay  ok  valleys 
is  20,000  feet  in  altitude,  and  on  this  are  super- 
imposed five  peaks  of  rock,  ascertained  by  survey 
to  be  from  24,000  to  25,000  feet  in  height,  while  at 
one  point  the  eye  takes  in  a  nearly  vertical  height  of 
14,000  feet  from  the  level  of  the  Shay  ok  River! 
The  Shayok  and  Nubra  valleys  are  only  five  and 
four  miles  in  width  respectively  at  their  widest  parts. 
The  early  winter  traffic  chiefly  follows  along  river 
beds,  then  nearly  dry,  while  summer  caravans  have 
to  labour  along  difficult  tracks  at  great  heights,  where 
mud  and  snow  avalanches  are  common,  to  climb 
dangerous  rock  ladders,  and  to  cross  glaciers  and 
the  risky  fords  of  the  Shayok.  Nubra  is  similar  in 
character  to  Ladak,  but  it  is  hotter  and  more  fertile, 
the  mountains  are  loftier,  the  gonpos  are  more  nu- 
merous, and  the  people  are  simpler,  more  religious^ 
and  more  purely  Tibetan.  Mr.  Redslob  loved  Nubra, 
and  as  love  begets  love  he  received  a  hearty  welcome 
at  Digar  and  everywhere  else. 

The  descent  to  the  Shayok  River  gave  us  a  most 
severe  day  of  twelve  hours.  The  river  had  covered 
the  usual  track,  and  we  had  to  take  to  torrent  beds 
and  precipice  ledges,  I  on  one  yak^  and  my  tent  on 
another.  In  years  of  travel  I  have  never  seen  such 
difficulties.    Eventually  at  dusk  Mr.  Redslob,  Gergan^ 

E  a 


68  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

the  servants,  and  I  descended  on  a  broad  shingle 
bed  by  the  rushing  Shay  ok ;  but  it  was  not  till  dawn 
on  the  following  day  that,  by  means  of  our  two  yaks 
and  the  muleteers,  our  baggage  and  food  arrived, 
the  baggage  horses  being  brought  down  unloaded, 
with  men  holding  the  head  and  tail  of  each.  Our 
saddle  horses,  which  we  led  with  us,  were  much  cut 
by  falls.  Gyalpo  fell  fully  twenty  feet,  and  got  his 
side  laid  open.  The  baggage  horses,  according  to 
their  owners,  had  all  gone  over  one  precipice,  which 
delayed  them  five  hours. 

Below  us  lay  two  leaky  scows,  and  eight  men  from 
Sati,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Shayok,  are  pledged 
to  the  Government  to  ferry  travellers  ;  but  no  amount 
of  shouting  and  yelling,  or  burning  of  brushwood,  or 
even  firing,  brought  them  to  the  rescue,  though  their 
pleasant  lights  were  only  a  mile  ofi".  Snow  fell,  the 
wind  was  strong  and  keen,  and  our  tent-pegs  were 
only  kept  down  by  heavy  stents.  Blankets  in 
abundance  were  laid  down,  yet  failed  to  soften  the 
'  paving  stones '  on  which  I  slept  that  night  !  We 
had  tea  and  rice,  but  our  men,  whose  baggage  was 
astray  on  the  mountains,  were  without  food  for 
twenty-two  hours,  positively  refusing  to  eat  our  food 
or  cook  fresh  rice  in  our  cooking  pots  !  To  such  an 
extent  has   Hindu    caste-  feeling   infected   Moslems  ! 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  69 

The  disasters  of  that  day's  inarch,  besides  various 
breakages,  were,  two  servants  helpless  from  'pass- 
poison  '  and  bruises  ;  a  Ladaki,  who  had  rolled  over 
a  precipice,  with  a  broken  arm,  and  Gergan  bleeding 
from  an  ugly  scalp  wound,  also  from  a  fall. 

By  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  sun  was  high 
and  brilliant,  the  snows  of  the  ravines  under  its  fierce 
heat  were  melting  fast,  and  the  river,  roaring  hoarsely, 
was  a  mad  rush  of  grey  rapids  and  grey  foam ;  but 
three  weeks  later  in  the  season,  lower  down,  its  many 
branches  are  only  two  feet  deep.  This  Shayok,  which 
cannot  in  any  way  be  circumvented,  is  the  great 
obstacle  on  this  Yarkand  trade  route.  Travellers  and 
their  goods  make  the  perilous  passage  in  the  scow, 
but  their  animals  swim,  and  are  often  paralysed  by 
the  ice-cold  water  and  drowned.  My  Moslem  ser- 
vants, white-lipped  and  trembling,  committed  them- 
selves to  Allah  on  the  river  bank,  and  the  Buddhists 
worshipped  their  sleeve  idols.  The  goipa,  or  headman 
of  Sati,  a  splendid  fellow,  who  accompanied  us 
through  Nubra,  and  eight  wild- looking,  half-naked 
satellites,  were  the  Charons  of  that  Styx.  They  poled 
and  paddled  with  yells  of  excitement ;  the  rapids 
seized  the  scow,  and  carried  her  broadside  down  into 
hissing  and  raging  surges ;  then  there  was  a  plash, 
a  leap    of  maddened   water   half    filling    the    boat, 


7C3  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

a  struggle,  a  whirl,  violent  efforts,  and  a  united  yell, 
and  far  down  the  torrent  we  were  in  smooth  water 
on  the  opposite  shore.  The  ferrymen  recrossed,  pulled 
our  saddle  horses  by  ropes  into  the  river,  the  gopa 
held  them  ;  again  the  scow  and  her  frantic  crew, 
poling,  paddling,  and  yelling,  were  hurried  broadside 
down,  and  as  they  swept  past  there  were  glimpses 
above  and  among  the  foam-crested  surges  of  the 
wild-looking  heads  and  drifting  forelocks  of  two 
grey  horses  swimming  desperately  for  their  lives  — 
a  splendid  sight.  They  landed  safely,  but  of  the 
baggage  animals  one  was  sucked  under  the  boat  and 
drowned,  and  as  the  others  refused  to  face  the  rapids, 
we  had  to  obtain  other  transport.  A  few  days  later 
the  scow,  which  was  brought  up  in  pieces  from 
Kashmir  on  coolies'  backs  at  a  cost  of  four  hundred 
rupees,  was  dashed  to  pieces  ! 

A  halt  for  Sunday  in  an  apricot  grove  in  the 
pleasant  village  of  Sati  refreshed  us  all  for  the  long 
marches  which  followed,  by  which  we  crossed  the 
Sasir  Pass,  full  of  difficulties  from  snow  and  glaciers, 
which  extend  for  many  miles,  to  the  Dipsang  Plain, 
the  bleakest  and  dreariest  of  Central  Asian  wastes, 
from  which  the  gentle  ascent  of  the  Karakorum  Pass 
rises,  and  returned,  varying  our  route  slightly,  to  the 
pleasant  villages  of  the  Nubra  valley.      Everywhere 


SHERGOL  AND  LEH  It 

Mr.  Kedslob's  Tibetan  scholarship,  his  old-world 
courtesy,  his  kindness  and  adaptability,  and  his 
medical  skill,  ensured  us  a  welcome  the  heartiness 
of  which  I  cannot  describe.  The  headmen  and  elders 
of  the  villages  came  to  meet  us  when  we  arrived,  and 
escorted  us  when  we  left ;  the  monasteries  and  houses 
with  the  best  they  contained  were  thrown  open  to  us; 
the  men  sat  round  our  camp-fires  at  night,  telling 
stories  and  local  gossip,  and  asking  questions,  every- 
thing being  translated  to  me  by  my  kind  guide,  and 
so  we  actually  lived  '■  among  the  Tibetans.* 


CHAPTER  III 

NUERA 

In  order  to  visit  Lower  Nubra  and  return  to  Leh 
we  were  obliged  to  cross  the  great  fords  of  the 
Shayok  at  the  most  dangerous  season  of  the  year. 
This  transit  had  been  the  bugbear  of  the  journey 
ever  since  news  reached  us  of  the  destruction  of  the 
Sati  scow.  Mr.  Redslob  questioned  every  man  we 
met  on  the  subject,  solemn  and  noisy  conclaves  were 
held  upon  it  round  the  camp-fires,  it  was  said  that 
the  '  European  woman '  and  her  '  spider-legged  horse ' 
could  never  get  across,  and  for  days  before  we  reached 
the  stream,  the  chupas,  or  government  water-guides, 
made  nightly  reports  to  the  village  headmen  of  the 
state  of  the  waters,  which  were  steadily  rising,  the 
final  verdict  being  that  they  were  only  just  prac- 
ticable for  strong  horses.  To  delay  till  the  waters 
fell  was  impossible.  Mr.  Redslob  had  engagements 
in  Leh,  and  I  was  already  somewhat  late  for  the 
passage  of  the  lofty  passes  between  Tibet  and  British 


NUBRA  75 

India  before  the  winter,  so  we  decided  on  crossing 
with  every  precaution  which  experience  could  suggest. 
At  Lagshung,  the  evening  before,  the  Tibetans  made 
prayers  and  offerings  for  a  day  cloudy  enough  to  keep 
the  water  down,  but  in  the  morning  from  a  cloudless 
sky  a  scintillating  sun  blazed  down  like  a  magnesium 
light,  and  every  glacier  and  snowfield  sent  its  tribute 
torrent  to  the  Shay  ok.  In  crossing  a  stretch  of  white 
sand  the  solar  heat  was  so  fierce  that  our  European 
skins  were  blistered  through  our  clothing.  We  halted 
at  Lagshung,  at  the  house  of  a  friendly  zemindar,  who 
pressed  upon  me  the  loan  of  a  big  Yarkand  horse  for 
the  ford,  a  kindness  which  nearly  proved  fatal ;  and 
then  by  shingle  paths  through  lacerating  thickets  of 
the  horrid  Hippophae  rhamnoides,  we  reached  a  chod- 
ten  on  the  shingly  bank  of  the  river,  where  the 
Tibetans  renewed  their  prayers  and  offerings,  and  the 
final  orders  for  the  crossing  were  issued.  We  had 
twelve  horses,  carrying  only  quarter  loads  each,  all 
led ;  the  servants  were  mounted,  '  water-guides '  with 
ten-foot  poles  sounded  the  river  ahead,  one  led  Mr. 
Redslob's  horse  (the  rider  being  bare-legged)  in  front 
of  mine  with  a  long  rope,  and  two  more  led  mine, 
while  the  goixis  of  three  villages  and  the  zemindar 
steadied  my  horse  against  the  stream.  The  water- 
guides  only  wore  girdles,  and  with  elf-locks  and  pig- 


u 


AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 


tails  streaming  from  their  heads,  and  their  uncoutt 
yells  and  wild  gesticulations,  they  looked  true  river- 
demons. 


The  Shayok  presented  an  expanse  of  eight  branches 
and  a  main,  stream,  divided  by  shallows  and  shingle 


NUBRA  75 

banks,  the  whole  a  mile  and  a  half  in  width.  On  the 
brink  the  chupas  made  us  all  drink  good  draughts  of 
the  turbid  river  water,  '  to  prevent  giddiness,'  they 
said,  and  they  added  that  I  must  not  think  them  rude 
if  they  dashed  water  at  my  face  frequently  with  the 
same  object.  Hassan  Khan,  and  Mando,  who  was  Uvid 
with  fright,  wore  dark-green  goggles,  that  they  might 
not  see  the  rapids.  In  the  second  branch  the  water 
reached  the  horses'  bodies,  and  my  animal  tottered 
and  swerved.  There  were  bursts  of  wild  laughter, 
not  merriment  but  excitement,  accompanied  by  yells 
as  the  streams  grew  fiercer,  a  loud  chorus  oiKabadar! 
Sharhaz!  ('Caution!'  'Well  done!')  was  yelled  to 
encouraofe  the  horses,  and  the  boom  and  hiss  of  the 
Shayok  made  a  wild  accompaniment.  Gyalpo,  for 
whose  legs  of  steel  I  longed,  frolicked  as  usual,  making 
mirthful  lunges  at  his  leader  when  the  pair  halted. 
Hassan  Khan,  in  the  deepest  branch,  shakily  said  to 
me, '  I  not  afraid,  Mem  Sahib.'  During  the  hour  spent 
in  crossing  the  eight  branches,  I  thought  that  the  risk 
had  been  exaggerated,  and  that  giddiness  was  the 
chief  peril. 

But  when  we  halted,  cold  and  dripping,  on  the 
shingle  bank  of  the  main  stream  I  changed  my 
mind.  A  deep,  fierce,  swirling  rapid,  with  a  calmer 
depth  below  its  farther  bank,  and  fully  a  quarter  of 


fS  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

a  mile  wide,  was  yet  to  be  crossed.  The  business  was 
serious.  All  the  chupas  went  up  and  down,  sounding, 
long  before  they  found  a  possible  passage.  All  loads 
were  raised  higher,  the  men  roped  their  soaked  cloth- 
ing on  their  shoulders,  water  was  dashed  repeatedly 
at  our  faces,  girths  were  tightened,  and  then,  with 
shouts  and  yells,  the  whole  caravan  plunged  into  deep 
water,  strong,  and  almost  ice-cold.  Half  an  hour  was 
spent  in  that  devious  ford,  without  any  apparent 
progress,  for  in  the  dizzy  swirl  the  horses  simply 
seemed  treading  the  water  backwards.  Louder  grew 
the  yells  as  the  torrent  raged  more  hoarsely,  the 
chorus  of  kabadar  grew  frantic,  the  water  was  up  to 
the  men's  armpits  and  the  seat  of  my  saddle,  my  horse 
tottered  and  swerved  several  times,  the  nearing  shore 
presented  an  abrupt  bank  underscooped  by  the  stream. 
There  was  a  deeper  plunge,  an  encouraging  shout,  and 
Mr.  Redslob's  strong  horse  leapt  the  bank.  The  gopas 
encouraged  mine ;  he  made  a  desperate  effort,  but  fell 
short  and  rolled  over  backwards  into  the  Shayok  with 
his  rider  under  him.  A  struggle,  a  moment  of  suffo- 
cation, and  I  was  extricated  by  strong  arms,  to  be 
knocked  down  again  by  the  rush  of  the  water,  to  be 
again  dragged  up  and  hauled  and  hoisted  up  the 
crumbling  bank.  I  escaped  with  a  broken  rib  and 
some   severe   bruiseS;   but   the    horse   was  drowned. 


NUBRA 


77 


Mr.  Redslob,  who  bad  thought  that  my  life  could  not 
be  saved,  and  the  Tibetans  were  so  distressed  by  the 


THKEE   G0PA3 


accident  that  I  made  very  light  of  it,  and  only  took 
one  day  of  rest.     The  following  morning  some  men 


78  AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 

and  animals  were  carried  away,  and  afterwards  the 
ford  was  impassable  for  a  fortnight.  Such  risks  are 
among  the  amenities  of  the  great  trade  route  from 
India  into  Central  Asia  ! 

The  Lower  Nubra  valley  is  wilder  and  narrower 
than  the  Upper,  its  apricot  orchards  more  luxuriant, 
its  wolf-haunted  hippophae  and  tamarisk  thickets  more 
dense.     Its  villages  are  always  close  to  ravines,  the 
mouths  of  which    are    filled  with   chod-tens,  manis, 
prayer- wheels,   and   religious   buildings.      Access   to 
them  is  usually  up  the  stony  beds  of  streams  over- 
arched by  apricots.     The  camping-grounds  are  apricot 
orchards.     The  apricot  foliage  is  rich,  and  the  fruit 
small  but  delicious.      The  largest  fruit   tree  I  saw 
measured  nine  feet  six  inches  in  girth  six  feet  from 
the  ground.     Strangers  are  welcome  to  eat  as  much 
of  the  fruit  as  they  please,  provided  that  they  return 
the  stones  to  the  proprietor.     It  is  true  that  Nubra 
exports  dried  apricots,  and  the  women  were  splitting 
and  drying  the  fruit  on  every  house   roof,  but  the 
special  raison  d'etre  of  the  tree  is  the  clear,  white, 
fragrant,  and  highly  illuminating  oil  made  from  the 
kernels  by  the  simple  process  of  crushing  them  be- 
tween two  stones.     In  every  goirpo  temj^le  a  silver 
bowl  holding  from  four  to  six  gallons  is  replenished 
annually  with  this  almond- scented  oil  for  the  ever- 


NUBRA  79 

burning  light  before  the  shrine  of  Buddha.  It  is 
used  for  lamps,  and  very  largely  in  cookery.  Children, 
instead  of  being  washed,  are  rubbed  daily  with  it, 
and  on  being  weaned  at  the  age  of  four  or  five,  are 
fed  for  some  time,  or  rather  crammed,  with  balls  of 
barley-meal  made  into  a  paste  with  it. 

At  Hundar,  a  superbly  situated  village,  which  we 
visited  twice,  we  were  received  at  the  house  of  Gergan 
the  monk,  who  had  accompanied  us  throughout.  He 
is  a  zemindar,  and  the  large  house  in  which  he  made 
us  welcome  stands  in  his  own  patrimony.  Every- 
thing was  prepared  for  us.  The  mud  floors  were 
swept,  cotton  quilts  were  laid  down  on  the  balconies, 
blue  cornflowers  and  marigolds,  cultivated  for  reli- 
gious ornament,  wei'e  in  all  the  rooms,  and  the  women 
were  in  gala  dress  and  loaded  with  coarse  jewellery. 
Right  hearty  was  the  welcome.  Mr.  Redslob  loved, 
and  therefore  was  loved.  The  Tibetans  to  him  were 
not  'natives,'  but  brothers.  He  drew  the  best  out 
of  them.  Their  superstitions  and  beliefs  were  not  to 
him  'rubbish,'  but  subjects  for  minute  investigation 
and  study.  His  courtesy  to  all  was  frank  and  digni- 
fied. In  his  dealings  he  was  scrupulously  just.  He 
was  intensely  interested  in  their  interests.  His 
Tibetan  scholarship  and  knowledge  of  Tibetan  sacred 
literature  gave  him  almost  the  standing  of  an  abbot 


86  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

among  them,  and  his  medical  skill  and  knowledge, 
joyfully  used  for  their  benefit  on  former  occasions, 
had  won  their  regard.  So  at  Hundar,  as  everywhere 
else,  the  elders  came  out  to  meet  us  and  cut  the 
apricot  branches  away  on  our  road,  and  the  silver 
horns  of  the  gonpo  above  brayed  a  dissonant  wel- 
come. Along  the  Indus  valley  the  servants  of  Eng- 
lishmen beat  the  Tibetans,  in  the  Shayok  and  Nubra 
valleys  the  Yarkand  traders  beat  and  cheat  them, 
and  the  women  are  shy  with  strangers,  but  at  Hundar 
they  were  frank  and  friendly  with  me,  saying,  as 
many  others  had  said,  '  We  will  trust  any  one  who 
comes  with  the  missionary.' 

Gergan's  home  was  typical  of  the  dwellings  of  the 
richer  cultivators  and  landholders.  It  was  a  large, 
rambling,  three-storeyed  house,  the  lower  part  of 
stone,  the  upper  of  huge  sun-dried  bricks.  It  was 
adorned  with  projecting  windows  and  brown  wooden 
balconies.  Fuel — the  dried  excreta  of  animals — is  too 
scarce  to  be  used  for  any  but  cooking  purposes,  and  on 
these  balconies  in  the  severe  cold  of  winter  the  people 
sit  to  imbibe  the  warm  sunshine.  The  rooms  were 
large,  ceiled  with  peeled  poplar  rods,  and  floored  with 
split  white  pebbles  set  in  clay.  There  was  a  temple 
on  the  roof,  and  in  it,  on  a  platform,  were  life-size 
images  of  Buddha,  seated  in  eternal  calm,  with  hia 


NUBRA  8t 

downcast  eyes  and  mild  Hindu  face,  the  thousand- 
armed  Chan-ra-zigs  (the  great  Mercy),  Jam-pal-yangs 
(the  Wisdom),  and  Chag-na-dorje  (the  Justice).  In 
front  on  a  table  or  altar  were  seven  small  lamps, 
burning  apricot  oil,  and  twenty  small  brass  cups, 
containing  minute  offerings  of  rice  and  other  things, 
changed  daily.  There  were  prayer-wheels,  cymbals, 
horns  and  drums,  and  a  prayer-c}  linder  six  feet  high, 
which  it  took,  the  strength  of  two  men  to  turn.  On 
a  shelf  immediately  below  the  idols  were  the  brazen 
sceptre,  bell,  and  thunderl)olt,  a  brass  lotus  blossom, 
and  the  spouted  brass  flagon  decorated  with  peacocks' 
feathers,  which  is  used  at  baptisms,  and  for  pouring 
holy  water  upon  the  hands  at  festivals.  In  houses  in 
which  there  is  not  a  roof  temple  the  best  room  is  set 
apart  for  religious  use  and  for  these  divinities,  which 
are  always  surrounded  with  musical  instruments  and 
symbols  of  power,  and  receive  worship  and  offerings 
daily,  Tibetan  Buddhism  being  a  religion  of  the  family 
and  household.  In  his  family  temple  Gergan  offered 
gifts  and  thanks  for  the  deliverances  of  the  journey. 
He  had  been  assisting  Mr.  Redslob  for  two  years  in 
the  translation  of  the  New  Testament,  and  had  wept 
over  the  love  and  sufferings  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
He  had  even  desired  that  his  son  should  receive 
baptism  and  be  brought  up  as  a  Christian,  but  for 

F 


8a  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

himself  he  'could  not  break  with  custom  and  hia 
ancestral  creed.' 

In  the  usual  living-room  of  the  family  a  platform, 
raised  only  a  few  inches,  ran  partly  round  the  wall. 
In  the  middle  of  the  floor  there  was  a  clay  fireplace, 
with  a  prayer- wheel  and  some  clay  and  brass  cooking 
pots  upon  it.  A  few  shelves,  fire-bars  for  roasting 
barley,  a  wooden  churn,  and  some  spinning  arrange- 
ments were  the  furniture.  A  number  of  small  dark 
rooms  used  for  sleeping  and  storage  opened  from  this, 
and  above  were  the  balconies  and  reception  rooms. 
Wooden  posts  supported  the  roofs,  and  these  were 
wreathed  with  lucerne,  the  firstfruits  of  the  field. 
Narrow,  steep  staircases  in  all  Tibetan  houses  lead  to 
the  family  rooms.  In  winter  the  people  live  below, 
alongside  of  the  animals  and  fodder.  In  summer  they 
sleep  in  loosely  built  booths  of  poplar  branches  on  the 
roof.  Gergan's  roof  was  covered,  like  others  at  the 
time,  to  the  depth  of  two  feet,  with  hay,  i.  e.  grass  and 
lucerne,  which  are  wound  into  long  ropes,  experience 
having  taught  the  Tibetans  that  their  scarce  fodder 
is  best  preserved  thus  from  breakage  and  waste. 
I  bought  hay  by  the  yard  for  Gyalpo. 

Our  food  in  this  hospitable  house  was  simple — 
apricots,  fresh,  or  dried  and  stewed  with  honey  ;  zho's 
milk,  curds  and  cheese,  sour  cream,  peas,  beans,  balls 


NUBRA  83 

of  barley  dough,  barley  porridge,  and  'broth  of 
abominable  things.'  Chcmg,  a  dirty-looking  beer 
made  from  barley,  was  offered  with  each  meal,  and 
tea  frequently,  but  I  took  my  own  '  on  the  sly.'  I 
have  mentioned  a  churn  as  part  of  the  '  plenishings ' 
of  the  living-room.  In  Tibet  the  churn  is  used  for 
making  tea!  I  give  the  recipe.  'For  six  persons. 
Boil  a  teacupful  of  tea  in  three  pints  of  water  for  ten 
minutes  with  a  heaped  dessert-spoonful  of  soda.  Put 
the  infusion  into  the  chum  with  one  pound  of  butter 
and  a  small  tablespoonful  of  salt.  Churn  until  as 
thick  as  cream.'  Tea  made  after  this  fashion  holds 
the  second  place  to  cliang  in  Tibetan  affections.  The 
butter  according  to  our  thinking  is  always  rancid,  the 
mode  of  making  it  is  uncleanly,  and  it  always  has 
a  rank  flavour  from  the  goatskin  in  which  it  was  kept. 
Its  value  is  enhanced  by  age.  I  saw  skins  of  it  forty, 
tifty,  and  even  sixty  years  old,  which  were  very 
highly  prized,  and  would  only  be  opened  at  some 
special  family  festival  or  funeral. 

During  the  three  days  of  our  visits  to  Hundar  both 
men  and  women  wore  their  festival  dresses,  and  appa- 
rently abandoned  most  of  their  ordinary  occupations 
in  our  honour.  The  men  were  very  anxious  that 
I  should  be  'amused,'  and  made  many  grotesque 
suggestions  on  the  subject.     'Why  is  the  European 

F  2 


84  AMONG   THE   TIBETANS 

woman  always  writing  or  sewing'?'  they  asked.  'Ifi 
she  very  poor,  or  has  she  made  a  vow?'  Visits  to 
some  of  the  neighbouring  monasteries  were  eventually 
proposed,  and  turned  out  most  interesting. 

The  monastery  of  Deskyid,  to  which  we  made  a 
three  days'  expedition,  is  from  its  size  and  picturesque 
situation  the  most  imposing  in  Nubra.  Euilt  on 
a  majestic  spur  of  rock  rising  on  one  side  i,oco  feet 
perpendicularly  from  a  torrent,  the  spur  itfelf  having 
an  altitude  of  1 1  ,cco  feet,  with  red  peaks,  snow- 
capped, rising  to  a  height  of  over  20  oco  feet  behind 
the  vast  irregular  pile  of  red,  white,  and  yellow 
temples,  towers,  storehouses,  cloisters,  galleries,  and 
balconies,  rising  for  300  feet  one  above  another, 
hanging  over  chasms,  built  out  on  wooden  buttresses, 
and  surmounted  with  flags,  tridents,  and  yahs  tails, 
a  central  tower  or  keep  dominating  the  whole,  it  is 
perhaps  the  most  picturesque  object  I  have  ever  seen, 
well  worth  the  crossing  of  the  Sha}  ok  fords,  my 
painful  accident,  and  much  besides.  It  looks  inacces- 
sible, but  in  fact  can  be  attained  by  rude  zigzags  of 
a  thousand  steps  of  rock,  some  natural,  others  roughly 
hewn,  getting  worse  and  worse  as  they  rise  higher, 
till  the  later  zigzags  suggest  the  difficulties  of  the 
ascent  of  the  Great  Pyramid.  The  day  was  fearfully 
hot,  99°  in  the  shade,  and  the  naked,  shining  surfaces 


NUBRA  85 

of  purple  rock  with  a  metallic  lustre  radiated  heat. 
My  '  gallant  grey '  took  me  up  half-way — a  great 
feat — and  the  Tibetans  cheered  and  shouted  ^  Shar- 
6a0/'('Well  done!')  as  he  pluckily  leapt  up  the 
great  slippery  rock  ledges.  After  I  dismounted,  any 
number  of  willing  hands  hauled  and  helped  me  up 
the  remaining  horrible  ascent,  the  rugged  rudeness  of 
which  is  quite  indescribable.  The  inner  entrance  is 
a  gateway  decorated  with  a  yalcs  head  and  many 
Buddhist  emblems.  High  above,  on  a  rude  gallery, 
fifty  monks  were  gathered  with  their  musical  instru- 
ments. As  soon  as  the  Kan-po  or  abbot,  Punt-sog- 
sogman  (the  most  perfect  Merit),  received  us  at  the 
gate,  the  monkish  orchestra  broke  forth  in  a  tornado 
of  sound  of  a  most  tremendous  and  thrilling  quality, 
which  was  all  but  overwhelming,  as  the  mountain 
echoes  took  up  and  prolonged  the  sound  of  fearful 
blasts  on  six-foot  silver  horns,  the  bellowing  thunder 
of  six-foot  drums,  the  clash  of  cymbals,  and  the 
dissonance  of  a  number  of  monster  gongs.  It  was  not 
music,  but  it  was  sublime.  The  blasts  on  the  horns 
are  to  welcome  a  great  personage,  and  such  to  the 
monks  who  despised  his  teaching  was  the  devout  and 
learned  German  missionary.  Mr.  Redslob  explained 
that  I  had  seen  much  of  Buddhism  in  Ceylon  and 
Japan,  and  wished  to  see  their  temples.     So  with  our 


6b 


AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 


train  of  gopas,  zemindar,  peasants,  and  muleteers,  we 
mounted   to  a  corridor  full  of  lamas  in  ragged  red 


SOME   INSTRUMENTS   OF   BUDDHIST    ^YOKSHIP 


dresses,  yellow  girdles,  and   yellow  caps,  where  we 
were  presented  with  plates  of  apricots,  and  the  door 


NUBRA  87 

of  the  lowest  of  the   seven    temples  heavily  grated 
backwards. 

The  first  view,  and  indeed  the  whole  view  of  this 
temple  of  Wrath  or  Justice,  was  suggestive  of  a  fright- 
ful Inferno,  with  its  rows  of  demon  gods,  hideous 
beyond  Western  conception,  engaged  in  torturing 
writhing  and  bleeding  specimens  of  humanity.  Demon 
masks  of  ancient  lacquer  hung  from  the  pillars,  naked 
swords  gleamed  in  motionless  hands,  and  in  a  deep 
recess  whose  '  darkness '  was  rendered  '  visible '  by 
one  lamp,  was  that  indescribable  horror  the  execu- 
tioner of  the  Lord  of  Hell,  his  many  brandished  arms 
holding  instruments  of  torture,  and  before  him  the 
bell,  the  thunderbolt  and  sceptre,  the  holy  water,  and 
the  baptismal  flagon.  Our  joss-sticks  fumed  on  the 
still  air,  monks  waved  censers,  and  blasts  of  dissonant 
music  woke  the  semi-subterranean  echoes.  In  this 
temple  of  Justice  the  younger  lamas  spend  some  hours 
daily  in  the  supposed  contemplation  of  the  torments 
reserved  for  the  unholy.  In  the  highest  temple,  that 
of  Peace,  the  summer  sunshine  fell  on  Shakya  Thubba 
and  the  Buddhist  triad  seated  in  endless  serenity. 
The  walls  were  covered  with  frescoes  of  great  lamas, 
and  a  series  of  alcoves,  each  with  an  image  represent- 
ing an  incarnation  of  Buddha,  ran  round  the  temple. 
In  a  chapel  full  of  monstrous  images  and  piles   of 


88  AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 

medallions  made  of  the  ashes  of  '  holy '  men,  the  sub- 
abbot  was  discoursing  to  the  acolytes  on  the  religious 
classics.  In  the  chapel  of  meditations,  among  lighted 
incense  sticks,  monks  seated  before  images  were  tell- 
ing their  beads  with  the  object  of  working  themselves 
into  a  state  of  ecstatic  contemplation  (somewhat 
resembling  a  certain  hypnotic  trance),  for  there  are 
undoubtedly  devout  lamas,  though  the  majority  are 
idle  and  unholy.  It  must  be  understood  that  all 
Tibetan  literature  is  '  sacred/  though  some  of  the 
volumes-of  exquisite  calligraphy  on  parchment,  which 
for  our  benefit  were  divested  of  their  silken  and 
brocaded  wrappings,  contain  nothing  better  than  fairy 
tales  and  stories  of  doubtful  morality,  which  are 
recited  by  the  lamas  to  the  accompaniment  of  inces- 
sant cups  of  chang,  as  a  religious  duty  when  they  visit 
their  '  Hocks '  in  the  winter. 

The  Deskyid  gonpo  contains  150  lamas,  all  of  whom 
have  been  educated  at  Lhassa.  A  younger  son  in 
every  household  becomes  a  monk,  and  occasionally 
enters  upon  his  vocation  as  an  acolyte  pupil  as  soon 
as  weaned.  At  the  age  of  thirteen  these  acolytes  are 
sent  to  study  at  Lhassa  for  five  or  seven  years,  their 
departure  being  made  the  occasion  of  a  great  village 
feast,  with  several  days  of  religious  observances.  The 
close  connection  with  Lhassa,  especially  in  the  case  of 


NUBRA  89 

the  yellow  lamas,  gives  Nubra  Buddhism  a  singular 
interest.  All  the  larger  gonpos  have  their  prototype 
in  Lhassa,  all  ceremonial  has  originated  in  Lhassa, 
every  instrument  of  worship  has  been  consecrated  in 
Lhassa,  and  every  lama  is  educated  in  the  learning 
only  to  be  obtained  at  Lhassa.  Buddhism  is  indeed 
the  most  salient  feature  of  Nubra.  There  are  gonpos 
everywhere,  the  roads  are  lined  by  miles  of  chod- 
tens,  mianis,  and  prayer-mills,  and  flags  inscribed  with 
sacred  words  in  Sanskrit  flutter  from  every  roof. 
There  are  processions  of  red  and  yellow  lamas  ;  every 
act  in  trade,  agriculture,  and  social  life  needs  the 
sanction  of  sacerdotalism  ;  whatever  exists  of  wealth 
is  in  the  gonpos,  which  also  have  a  monopoly  of  learn- 
ing, and  11,000  monks  closely  linked  with  the  laity, 
yet  ruling  all  affairs  of  life  and  death  and  beyond 
death,  are  all  connected  by  education,  tradition,  and 
authority  with  Lhassa. 

We  remained  long  on  the  blazing  roof  of  the  highest 
tower  of  the  gorqw,  while  good  Mr.  Redslob  disputed 
with  the  abbot  '  concerning  the  things  pertaining  to 
the  kingdom  of  God.'  The  monks  standing  round 
laughed  sneeringly.  They  had  shown  a  little  interest, 
Mr.  R.  said,  on  his  earlier  visits.  The  abbot  accepted 
a  copy  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John.  '  St.  Matthew,'  he 
observed,  '  is  very  laughable  reading.'     Blasts  of  wild 


90  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

music  and  the  brajing  of  colossal  horns  honoured  our 
departure,  and  our  difficult  descent  to  the  apricot 
groves  of  Deskyid.  On  our  return  to  Hundar  the 
grain  was  ripe  on  Gergan's  fields.  The  first  ripe  ears 
were  cut  off,  offered  to  the  family  divinity,  and  were 
then  bound  to  the  pillars  of  the  house.  In  the  com- 
paratively fertile  Nubra  valley  the  wheat  and  barley 
are  cut,  not  looted  up.  While  they  cut  the  grain  the 
men  chant,  '  May  it  increase,  We  will  give  to  the 
poor,  we  will  give  to  the  lamas,'  with  every  stroke. 
They  believe  that  it  can  be  made  to  multiply  both 
under  the  sickle  and  in  the  threshing,  and  perform 
many  religious  rites  for  its  increase  while  it  is  in 
sheaves.  After  eight  days  the  corn  is  trodden  out  by 
oxen  on  a  threshing-floor  renewed  every  year.  After 
winnowing  with  wooden  forks,  they  make  the  grain 
into  a  pyramid,  insert  a  sacred  symbol,  and  pile  upon 
it  the  threshing  instruments  and  sacks,  erecting  an 
axe  on  the  apex  with  its  blade  turned  to  the  west,  as 
that  is  the  quarter  from  which  demons  are  supposed 
to  come.  In  the  afternoon  they  feast  round  it,  always 
giving  a  portion  to  the  axe,  saying,  '  It  is  yours,  it 
belongs  not  to  me.'  At  dusk  they  pour  it  into  the 
sacks  again,  chanting,  '  May  it  increase.'  But  these 
are  not  removed  to  the  granary  until  late  at  night,  at 
an  hour  when  the  hands  of  the  demons  are  too  much 


NUBRA  91 

benumbed  by  the  nightly  frost  to  diminish  the  store. 
At  the  beginning  of  every  one  of  these  operations 
the  presence  of  lamas  is  essential,  to  announce  the 
auspicious  moment,  and  conduct  religious  ceremonies. 
They  receive  fees,  and  are  regaled  with  abundant 
chang  and  the  fat  of  the  land. 

In  Hundar,  as  elsewhere,  we  were  made  very  wel- 
come in  all  the  houses.  I  have  described  the  dwelling 
of  Gergan.  The  poorer  peasants  occupy  similar 
houses,  but  roughly  built,  and  only  two-storeyed,  and 
the  floors  are  merely  clay.  In  them  also  the  very 
numerous  lower  rooms  are  used  for  cattle  and  fodder 
only,  while  the  upper  part  consists  of  an  inner  or 
winter  room,  an  outer  or  supper  room,  a  verandah 
room,  and  a  family  temple.  Among  their  rude 
plenishings  are  large  stone  corn  chests  like  sarco- 
phagi, stone  bowls  from  Baltistan,  cauldrons,  cooking 
pots,  a  tripod,  wooden  bowls,  spoons,  and  dishes 
earthen  pots,  and  yaks  and  sheep's  packsaddles.  The 
garments  of  the  household  are  kept  in  long  wooden 
boxes. 

Family  life  presents  some  curious  features.  In  the 
disposal  in  marriage  of  a  girl,  her  eldest  brother  has 
more  'say'  than  the  parents.  The  eldest  son  brings 
home  the  bride  to  his  father's  house,  but  at  a  given 
age  the  old  people  are  'shelved,'  i.e.  they  retire  to 


9%  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

a  small  house,  which  may  be  termed  a  'jointure 
house,'  and  the  eldest  son  assumes  the  patrimony 
and  the  rule  of  affairs.  I  have  not  met  with  a 
similar  custom  anywhere  in  the  East.  It  is  difficult  to 
speak  of  Tibetan  life,  with  all  its  affection  and  jollity, 
as  'family  life,'  for  Buddhism,  which  enjoins  monastic 
life,  and  usually  celibacy  along  with  it,  on  eleven 
thousand  out  of  a  total  population  of  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand,  farther  restrains  the  increase  of 
population  within  the  limits  of  sustenance  by  incul- 
cating and  rigidly  upholding  the  S}  stem  of  polyandry, 
permitting  marriage  only  to  the  eldest  son,  the  heii-  of 
the  land,  while  the  bride  accepts  all, his  brothers  as 
inferior  or  subordinate  husbands,  thus  attaching  the 
whole  family  to  the  soil  and  family  roof- tree,  the 
children  being  regarded  legally  as  the  property  of 
the  eldest  son,  who  is  addressed  by  them  as  '  Big 
Father,'  his  brothers  receiving  the  title  of  '  Little 
Father.'  The  resolute  determination,  on  economic 
as  well  as  religious  grounds,  not  to  abandon  this 
ancient  custom,  is  the  most  formidable  obstacle  in 
the  way  of  the  reception  of  Christianity  by  the 
Tibetans.  The  women  cling  to  it.  They  say,  '  We 
have  three  or  four  men  to  help  us  instead  of  one.' 
and  sneer  at  the  dulness  and  monotony  of  European 
monogamous  life !     A  woman  said  to  me,  '  If  I  had 


MONASTIC   BUILDINGS    AT   BASflO 


NUBRA  95 

only  one  husband,  and  he  died,  I  should  be  a  "widow ; 
if  I  have  two  or  three  I  am  never  a  widow ! '  The 
word  '  widow  '  is  with  them  a  term  of  reproach,  and  is 
applied  abusively  to  animals  and  men.  Children  are 
brought  up  to  be  very  obedient  to  fathers  and  mother, 
and  to  take  great  care  of  little  ones  and  cattle. 
Parental  affection  is  strong.  Husbands  and  wives 
beat  each  other,  but  separation  usually  follows 
a  violent  outbreak  of  this  kind.  It  is  the  custom 
for  the  men  and  women  of  a  village  to  assemble 
when  a  bride  enters  the  house  of  her  husbands,  each 
of  them  presenting  her  with  three  rupees.  The 
Tibetan  wife,  far  from  spending  these  gifts  on  per- 
sonal adornment,  looks  ahead,  contemplating  possible 
contingencies,  and  immediately  hires  a  field,  the  pro- 
duce of  which  is  her  own,  and  which  accumulates 
year  after  year  in  a  separate  granary,  so  that  she  may 
not  be  portionless  in  case  she  leaves  her  husband ! 

It  was  impossible  not  to  become  attached  to  the 
Nubra  people,  we  lived  so  completely  among  them, 
and  met  with  such  unbounded  goodwill.  Feasts 
were  given  in  our  honour,  every  gonpo  was  open 
to  us,  monkish  blasts  on  colossal  horns  brayed  out 
welcomes,  and  while  nothing  could  exceed  the  help- 
fulness and  alacrity  of  kindness  shown  by  all,  there 
was  not  a  thought  or  suggestion  of  backsheesh.    The 


g6  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

men  of  the  villages  always  sat  by  our  camp-fires  at 
night,  friendly  and  jolly,  but  never  obtrusive,  telling 
stories,  discussing  local  news  and  the  oppressions 
exercised  by  the  Kashmiri  officials,  the  designs  of 
Russia,  the  advance  of  the  Central  Asian  Railway, 
and  what  they  consider  as  the  weakness  of  the  Indian 
Government  in  not  annexing  the  provinces  of  the 
northern  frontier.  Many  of  their  ideas  and  feelings 
are  akin  to  ours,  and  a  mutual  understanding  is 
not  only  post>ible,  but  inevitable  ^ 

Industry  in  Nubra  is  the  condition  of  existence, 
and  both  sexes  work  hard  enough  k)  give  a  great 
zest  to  the  holidays  on  religious  festival  days. 
Whether  in  the  house  or  journeying  the  men  are 
never  seen  without  the  distaff.  They  weave  also, 
and  make  the  clothes  of  the  women  and  children! 
The  people  are  all  cultivators,  and  make  money 
also  by  undertaking  the  transit  of  the  goods  of  the 
Yarkand  traders   over   the   lofty  passes.     The   men 

^  Mr.  Redslob  said  that  when  on  different  occasions  he  was  smitten 
by  heavy  sorrows,  he  felt  no  difference  between  the  Tibetan  feeling  and 
expression  of  sympathy  and  that  of  Europeans.  A  stronger  testimony 
to  the  eftect  produced  by  his  twenty-five  years  of  loving  service  could 
scarcely  be  given  than  our  welcome  in  Nubra.  During  the  dangerous 
illness  which  foUowerl,  anxious  faces  thronged  his  humble  doorway  as 
early  as  break  of  day,  and  the  stream  of  friendly  inquiries  never  ceased 
till  sunset,  and  when  he  died  the  people  of  Ladak  and  Nubra  wept  and 
'  made  a  great  mourning  for  him,'  as  for  their  truest  friend. 


NVBRA  97 

plough  with  the  sAo,  or  hybrid  yak,  and  the  women 
break  the  clods  and  share  in  all  other  agricultural 
operations.  The  soil,  destitute  of  manure,  which  is 
dried  and  hoarded  for  fuel,  rare]y  produces  more 
than  tenfold.  The  'three  acres  and  a  cow'  is  with 
them  four  acres  of  alluvial  soil  to  a  family  on  an 
average,  with  'runs'  for  yalzs  and  sheep  on  the 
mountains.  The  'iarms,  planted  with  apricot  and 
other  fruit  trees,  a  prolific  loose-grained  barley, 
wheat,  peas,  and  lucerne,  are  oases  in  the  surround- 
ing deserts.  The  people  export  apricot  oil,  dried 
apricots,  sheep's  wool,  heavy  undyed  woollens,  a 
coarse  cloth  made  from  ycOzii  hair,  and  'pashmi,  the 
under  fleece  of  the  shawl  goat.  They  complained, 
and  I  think  with  good  reason,  of  the  merciless 
exactions  of  the  Kashmiri  officials,  but  there  were 
no  evidences  of  severe  poverty,  and  not  one  beggar 
was  seen. 

It  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  get  back  to  Leh. 
The  rise  of  the  Shajok  made  it  impossible  to  reach 
and  return  by  the  Digar  Pass,  and  the  alternative 
route  over  the  Kharzong  glacier  continued  for  some 
time  impracticable— that  is,  it  was  perfectly  smooth 
ice.  At  length  the  news  came  that  a  fall  of  snow 
had  rouo;hened  its  surface.  A  number  of  men  worked 
for  two  days  at  scafiblding  a  path,  and  with  great 

G 


98  AMONG   THE   TIBETANS 

difficulty,  and  the  loss  of  one  yak  from  a  falling 
rock,  a  fruitful  source  of  fatalities  in  Tibet,  we 
reached  Khalsar,  where  with  great  regret  we  parted 
with  Tse-ring-don-druh  (Life's  purpose  fulfilled),  the 
gopa  of  Sati,  whose  friendship  had  been  a  real 
pleasure,  and  to  whose  courage  and  promptitude,  in 
Mr.  Redslob's  opinion,  I  owed  my  rescue  from  drown- 
ing. Two  days  of  very  severe  marching^  and  long 
and  steep  ascents  brought  us  to  the  wretched  hamlet 
of  Kharzong  Lar-sa,  in  a  snowstorm,  at  an  altitude 
higher  than  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc.  The  servants 
were  all  ill  of '  pass-poison,'  and  crept  into  a  cave  along 
with  a  number  of  big  Tibetan  mastiffs,  where  they 
enjoyed  the  comfort  of  semi-sufFocation  till  the  next 
morning,  Mr.  R.  and  I,  with  some  willing  Tibetan 
helpers,  pitching  our  own  tents.  The  wind  was  strong 
and  keen,  and  with  the  mercury  down  at  15°  Fahren- 
heit it  was  impossible  to  do  anything  but  to  go  to  bed 
in  the  early  afternoon,  and  stay  there  till  the  next  day. 
Mr.  Redslob  took  a  severe  chill,  which  produced  an 
alarming  attack  of  pleurisy,  from  the  effects  of  which 
he  never  fully  recovered. 

We  started  on  a  grim  snowy  morning,  with  six  yaks 
carrying  our  baggage  or  ridden  by  ourselves,  four  led 
horses,  and  a  number  of  Tibetans,  several  more  having 
been  sent  on  in  advance  to  cut  steps  in  the  glacier 


NUBRA  99 

and  roughen  them  with  gravel.  Within  certain  limits 
the  ground  grows  greener  as  one  ascends,  and  we 
passed  upwards  among  primulas,  asters,  a  large  blue 
myosotis,  gentians,  potentillas,  and  great  sheets  of 
edelweiss.  At  the  glacier  foot  we  skirted  a  deep 
green  lake  on  snow  with  a  glorious  view  of  the  Khar- 
zong  glacier  and  the  pass,  a  nearly  perpendicular  wall 
of  rock,  bearing  up  a  steep  glacier  and  a  snowfield  of 
great  width  and  depth,  above  which  tower  pinnacles 
of  naked  rock.  It  presented  to  all  appearance  an 
impassable  barrier  rising  2,500  feet  above  the  lake, 
grand  and  awful  in  the  dazzling  whiteness  of  the  new- 
fallen  snow.  Thanks  to  the  ice  steps  our  yaks  took 
us  over  in  four  hours  without  a  false  step,  and  from 
the  summit,  a  sharp  ridge  1 7,500  feet  in  altiiude,  we 
looked  our  last  on  grimness,  blackness,  and  snow,  and 
southward  for  many  a  weary  mile  to  the  Indus  valley 
lying  in  sunshine  and  summer.  Fully  two  dozen 
carcases  of  horses  newly  dead  lay  in  cavities  of  the 
glacier.  Our  animals  were  ill  of  '  pass-poison,'  and 
nearly  blind,  and  I  was  obliged  to  ride  my  yak  into 
Leh,  a  severe  march  of  thirteen  hours,  down  miles  of 
crumbling  zigzags,  and  then  among  villages  of  irri- 
gated terraces,  till  the  grand  view  of  the  Gyalpo's 
palace,  with  its  air-hung  gonpo  and  clustering  chod- 
tens,  and  of  the  desert  city  itself,  burst  suddenly  upon 

G   2 


100 


AMONG   THE   TIBETANS 


us,  and  our  benumbed  and  stiffened  limbs  thawed  in 
the  hot  sunshine.  I  pitched  my  tent  in  a  poplar 
grove  for  a  fortnight,  near  the  Moravian  compounds 
and  close  to  the  travellers'  bungalow,  in  which  is 
a  British  Postal  Agency,  with  a  Tibetan  postmaster 
who  speaks  English,  a  Christian,  much  trusted  and 
respected,  named  Joldan,  in  whose  intelligence,  kind- 
ness, and  friendship  I  found  both  interest  and  pleasure. 


\^:5^ 


THE  YAK  [^Bos  grunnieiDi) 


CHAPTER  IV 


MANNERS   AND   CUSTOMS 


JoLDAN.  the  Tibetan  Eritish  postmaster  in  Leh,  is 
a  Christian  of  spotless  reputation.  Every  one  places 
unlimited  confidence  in  his  integi'ity  and  truthful- 
ness, and  his  religious  sincerity  has  been  attested  by 
many  sacrifices.  He  is  a  Ladaki,  and  the  family 
property  was  at  Stok  a  few  miles  from  Leh.  He 
was  baptized  in  Lahul  at  twenty-three,  his  father 
having  been  a  Christian.  He  learned  Urdu,  and 
was  for  ten  years  mission  schoolmaster  in  Kylang, 
but  returned  to  Leh  a  few  years  ago  as  postmaster. 
His  '  ancestral  dwelling '  at  Stok  was  destroyed  by 
order  of  the  wazir,  and  his  property  confiscated,  after 
many  unsuccessful  efforts  had  been  made  to  win 
him  back  to  Buddhism.  Afterwards  he  was  detained 
by  the  wazir,  and  compelled  to  serve  as  a  sepoy, 
till  Mr.  Heyde  went  to  the  council  and  obtained  his 


102 


AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 


release.  His  house  in  Leh  has  been  more  than  once 
burned  by  incendiaries.  But  he  pursues  a  quiet, 
even  course,  brings  up  his  family  after  the  best 
Christian   traditions,    refuses    Buddhist    suitors    for 


A   CHANG-PA    WOMAN 


his  daughters,  unobtrusively  but  capably  helps  the 
Moravian  missionaries,  supports  his  family  by  steady 
industry,  although  of  noble  birth,  and  asks  nothing 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  103 

of  any  one.  His  '  good  morning  '  and  *  good  night,' 
as  he  daily  passed  my  tent  with  clockwork  regu- 
larity, were  full  of  cheery  friendliness ;  he  gave 
much  useful  information  about  Tibetan  customs,  and 
his  ready  helpfulness  greatly  facilitated  the  difficult 
arrangements  for  my  farther  journey. 

The  Leh,  which  I  had  left  so  dull  and  quiet,  was 
full  of  strangers,  ti'affic,  and  noise.  The  neat  little 
Moravian  church  was  filled  by  a  motley  crowd  each 
Sunday,  in  which  the  few  Christians  were  distin- 
guishable by  their  clean  faces  and  clothes  and  their 
devout  air ;  and  the  Medical  Mission  Hospital  and 
Dispensary,  which  in  winter  have  an  average  atten- 
dance of  only  a  hundred  patients  a  month,  were  daily 
thronged  with  natives  of  India  and  Kashmir,  Baltis, 
Yarkandis,  Dards,  and  Tibetans.  In  my  visits  with 
Dr.  Marx  I  observed,  what  was  confirmed  by  four 
months'  experience  of  the  Tibetan  villagers,  that 
rheumatism,  inflamed  eyes  and  eyelids,  and  old  age 
are  the  chief  Tibetan  maladies.  Some  of  the  Dards 
and  Baltis  were  lepers,  and  the  natives  of  India 
brought  malarial  fever,  dysentery,  and  other  serious 
diseases.  The  hospital,  which  is  supported  by  the 
Indian  Government,  is  most  comfortable,  a  haven 
of  rest  for  those  who  fall  sick  by  the  way.  The 
hospital  assistants  are  intelligent,  thoroughly  kind- 


104  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

hearted  yoang  Tibetans,  who,  by  dint  of  careful 
drilling  and  an  affectionate  desire  to  please  '  the 
teacher  with  the  medicine  box,'  have  become  fairly 
trustworthy.     They  are  not  Christians. 

In  the  neat  dispensary  at  9  a.m.  a  gong  summons 
the  patients  to  the  operating  room  for  a  short 
religious  service.  Usually  about  fifty  were  present, 
and  a  number  more,  who  had  some  curiosity  about 
'  the  way,'  but  did  not  care  to  be  seen  at  Christian 
worship,  hung  about  the  doorways.  Dr.  Marx  read 
a  few  verses  from  the  Gospels,  explaining  them  in 
a  homely  manner,  and  concluded  with  the  Lord's 
Prayer.  Then  the  out-patients  were  carefully  and 
gently  treated,  leprous  limbs  were  bathed  and 
anointed,  the  wards  were  visited  at  noon  and  again 
at  sunset,  and  in  the  afternoons  operations  were 
performed  with  the  most  careful  antiseptic  pre- 
cautions, which  are  supposed  to  bo  used  for  the 
purpose  of  keeping  away  evil  spirits  from  the 
wounds!  The  Tibetans,  in  practice,  are  very  simple 
in  their  applications  of  medical  remedies.  Kubbing 
with  butter  is  their  great  panacea.  They  have 
a  dread  of  small-pox,  and  instead  of  burning  its 
victims  they  throw  them  into  their  rapid  torrents. 
If  an  isolated  case  occur,  the  sufferer  is  carried  to 
a  mountain-top,  where  he  is  left  to  recover  or  die. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  105 

If  a  small-pox  epidemic  is  in  the  province,  the 
people  of  the  villages  in  which  it  has  not  yet 
appeared  place  thorns  on  their  bridges  and  boun- 
daries, to  scare  away  the  evil  sphits  which  are 
supposed  to  carry  the  disease.  In  ordinary  illnesses, 
if  butter  taken  internally  as  well  as  rubbed  into  the 
skin  does  not  cure  the  patient,  the  lamas  are 
summoned  to  the  rescue.  They  make  a  mltsap, 
a  half  life-size  figure  of  the  sick  person,  dress  it  in 
his  or  her  clothes  and  ornaments,  and  place  it  in 
the  courtyard,  where  they  sit  round  it,  reading 
passages  from  the  sacred  classics  fitted  for  the 
occasion.  After  a  time,  all  rise  except  the  superior 
lama,  who  continues  reading,  and  takiog  small 
drums  in  their  left  hpnds,  they  recite  incantations, 
and  dance  wildly  round  the  mltsap,  believing,  or  at 
least  leading  the  people  to  believe,  that  by  this 
ceremony  the  malady,  supposed  to  be  the  work  of 
a  demon,  will  be  transferred  to  the  image.  After- 
wards the  clothes  and  ornaments  are  presented  to 
them,  and  the  figure  is  carried  in  procession  out  of 
the  yard  and  village  and  is  burned.  If  the  patient 
becomes  worse,  the  friends  are  apt  to  resort  to  the 
medical  skill  of  the  missionaries.  If  he  dies  they 
are  blamed,  and  if  he  recovers  the  lamas  take  the 
credit. 


106  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

At  some  little  distance  outside  Leh  are  the  crema- 
tion grounds — desert  places,  destitute  of  any  other 
vegetation  than  the  Caprifolia  horrida.  Each 
family  has  its  furnace  kept  in  good  repair.  The 
place  is  doleful,  and  a  funeral  scene  on  the  only 
sunless  day  I  experienced  in  Ladak  was  indescribably 
dismal.  After  death  no  one  touches  the  corpse  but 
the  lamas,  who  assemble  in  numbers  in  the  case 
of  a  rich  man.  The  senior  lama  offers  the  first 
prayers,  and  lifts  the  lock  which  all  Tibetans  wear 
at  the  back  of  the  head,  in  order  to  liberate  the  soul 
if  it  is  still  clinging  to  the  body.  At  the  same  time 
he  touches  the  region  of  the  heart  with  a  dagger. 
The  people  believe  that  a  drop  of  blood  on  the  head 
marks  the  spot  where  the  soul  has  made  its  exit. 
Any  good  clothing  in  which  the  person  has  died  is 
then  removed.  The  blacksmith  beats  a  drum,  and 
the  corpse,  covered  with  a  white  sheet  next  the 
dress  and  a  coloured  one  above,  is  carried  out  of  the 
house  to  be  worshipped  by  the  relatives,  who  walk 
seven  times  round  it.  The  women  then  retire  to 
the  house,  and  the  chief  lama  recites  liturgical 
passages  from  the  formularies.  Afterwards,  the 
relatives  retire,  and  the  corpse  is  carried  to  the 
burning-ground  by  men  who  have  the  same  tutelar 
deity   as    the   deceased.      The   leading   lama  walks 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  107 

first,  then  come  men  with  flags,  followed  by  the 
blacksmith  with  the  drum,  and  next  the  corpse,  with 
another  man  beating  a  drum  behind  it.  Meanwhile, 
the  lamas  are  praying  for  the  repose  and  quieting 
of  the  soul,  which  is  hovering  about,  desiring  to 
return.  The  attendant  friends,  each  of  whom  has 
carried  a  piece  of  wood  to  the  burning-ground, 
arrange  the  fuel  with  butter  on  the  furnace,  the 
corpse  wrapped  in  the  white  sheet  is  put  in,  and 
fire  is  applied.  The  process  of  destruction  in  a  rich 
man's  case  takes  about  an  hour.  During  the  burning 
the  lamas  read  in  high,  hoarse  monotones,  and  the 
blacksmiths  beat  their  drums.  The  lamas  depart 
first,  and  the  blacksmiths,  after  worshipping  the 
ashes,  shout,  '  Have  nothing  to  do  with  us  now,'  and 
run  rapidly  away.  At  dawn  the  following  day, 
a  man  whose  business  it  is  searches  among  the 
ashes  for  the  footprints  of  animals,  and  according  to 
the  footprints  found,  so  it  is  believed  will  be  the 
re-birth  of  the  soul. 

Some  of  the  ashes  are  taken  to  the  gonpos,  where 
the  lamas  mix  them  with  clay,  put  them  into  oval 
or  circular  moulds,  and  stamp  them  with  the  image 
of  Buddha.  These  are  preserved  in  chod-tens,  and 
in  the  house  of  the  nearest  relative  of  the  deceased ; 
but  in  the  case  of  '  holy '  men,  they  are  retained  in 


108  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

the  gonpos,  where  they  can  be  purchased  by  the 
devout.  After  a  cremation  much  chang  is  consumed 
by  the  friends,  who  make  presents  to  the  bereaved 
family.  The  value  of  each  is  carefully  entered  in 
a  book,  so  that  a  precise  return  may  be  made  when 
a  similar  occasion  occurs.  Until  the  fourth  day 
after  death  it  is  believed  to  be  impossible  to  quiet 
the  soul.  On  that  day  a  piece  of  paper  is  inscribed 
with  prayers  and  requests  to  the  soul  to  be  quiet, 
and  this  is  burned  by  the  la'mas  with  suitable 
ceremonies;  and  rites  of  a  more  or  less  elaborate 
kind  are  afterwards  performed  for  the  repose  of  the 
soul,  accompanied  with  prayers  that  it  may  get 
'  a  good  path '  for  its  re-birth,  and  food  is  placed 
in  conspicuous  places  about  the  house,  that  it  may 
understand  that  its  relatives  are  willing  to  support 
it.  The  mourners  for  some  time  wear  wretched 
clothes,  and  neither  dress  their  hair  nor  wash  their 
faces.  Every  year  the  lamas  sell  by  auction  the 
clothing  and  ornaments,  which  are  their  perquisites 
at  funerals  \ 

The  Moravian  missionaries  have  opened  a  school 
in  Leh,  and  the  wazir,  finding  that  the  Leh  people 

*  For  these  and  other  curious  details  concerning  Tibetan  customs 
I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  and  careful  investigations  of  the  lata 
Rev.  W.  Redslob,  of  Leh,  and  the  Rev.  A.  Heyde,  of  Kylang. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  109 

are  the  worst  educated  in  the  country,  ordered  that 
one  child  at  least  in  each  family  should  be  sent  to 
it.  This  awakened  grave  suspicions,  and  the  people 
hunted  for  reasons  for  it.  'The  boys  are  to  be 
trained  as  porters,  and  made  to  carry  burdens  over 
the  mountains,'  said  some.  '  Nay,'  said  others, 
'  they  are  to  be  sent  to  England  and  made  Christians 
of.'  [All  foreigners,  no  matter  what  their  nationality 
is,  are  supposed  to  be  English.]  Others  again  said, 
'They  are  to  be  kidnapped,'  and  so  the  decree  was 
ignored,  till  Mr.  Redslob  and  Dr.  Marx  went  among 
the  parents  and  explained  matters,  and  a  large 
attendance  was  the  result;  for  the  Tibetans  of  the 
trade  route  have  come  to  look  upon  the  acquisition 
of  '  foreign  learning  '  as  the  stepping-stone  to  Govern- 
ment appointments  at  ten  rupees  per  month.  Atten- 
dance on  rehgious  instruction  was  left  optional,  but 
after  a  time  sixty  pupils  were  regularly  present  at 
the  daily  reading  and  explanation  of  the  Gospels. 
Tibetan  fathers  teach  their  sons  to  write,  to  read 
the  sacred  classics,  and  to  calculate  with  a  frame 
of  balls  on  wires.  If  farther  instruction  is  thought 
desirable,  the  boys  are  sent  to  the  lavias,  and  even 
to  the  schools  at  Lhassa.  The  Tibetans  willingly 
receive  and  read  translations  of  our  Christian 
books,   and  some  go  so  far  as  to   think  that   their 


no 


AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 


teachings  are  '  stronger '  than  those  of  their  own, 
indicating  their  opinions  by  tearing  pages  out  of 
the  Gospels  and  rolling  them  up  into  pills,  which 
are    swallowed    in    the    belief    that    they    are    an 


:;^^^-^ 


CHANG-PA  CHIBB' 


effective  charm.  Sorcery  is  largely  used  in  the 
treatment  of  the  sick.  The  books  which  instruct 
in    the    black    art    are    known    as    *  black    books,' 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  III 

Those  which  treat  of  medicine  are  termed  '  blue 
books.'  Medical  knowledge  is  handed  down  from 
father  to  son.  The  doctors  know  the  virtues  of 
many  of  the  plants  of  the  country,  quantities  of 
which  they  mix  up  together  while  reciting  magical 
formulas. 

I  was  heartily  sorry  to  leave  Leh,  with  its  dazzling 
skies  and  abounding  colour  and  movement,  its  stirring 
topics  of  talk,  and  the  culture  and  exceeding  kindness 
of  the  Moravian  missionaries.  Helpfulness  was  the 
rule.  Gergan  came  over  the  Kharzong  glacier  on 
purpose  to  bring  me  a  prayer- wheel ;  Lob-sang  and 
Tse-ring-don-drub,  the  hospital  assistants,  made  me 
a  tent  carpet  of  yak's  hair  cloth,  singing  as  they 
sewed  ;  and  Joldan  helped  to  secure  transport  for  the 
twenty-two  days'  journey  to  Kylang.  Leh  has  few 
of  what  Europeans  regard  as  travelling  necessaries. 
The  brick  tea  which  1  purchased  from  a  Lhassa 
trader  was  disgusting.  I  afterwards  understood  that 
blood  is  used  in  making  up  the  blocks.  The  flour 
was  gritty,  and  a  leg  of  mutton  turned  out  to  be 
a  limb  of  a  goat  of  much  experience.  There  were  no 
straps,  or  leather  to  make  them  of,  in  the  bazaar,  and 
no  buckles ;  and  when  the  latter  were  provided  by 
Mr.  Redslob,  the  old  man  who  came  to  sew  them  upon 
a  warm  rug  which  I  had  made  for  Gyalpo  out  of 


112  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

pieces  of  carpet  and  hair-c^oth  put  them  on  wrongly? 
three  times,  saying  after  each  faihire,  'I'm  very 
foolish.  Foreign  ways  are  so  wonderful ! '  At  times 
the  Tibetans  say,  'We're  as  stupid  as  oxen,'  and 
I  was  inclined  to  think  so,  as  I  stood  for  two  hours 
instructing  the  blacksmith  about  making  shoes  for 
Gyalpo,  which  kept  turning  out  either  too  small  for 
a  mule  or  too  big  for  a  dray-horse. 

I  obtained  two  Lahul  muleteers  with  four  horses, 
quiet,  obliging  men,  and  two  superb  yalis,  which  were 
loaded  with  twelve  days'  hay  and  barley  for  my 
horse.  Provisions  for  the  whole  party  for  the  same 
time  had  to  be  carried,  for  the  route  is  over  an  unin- 
habited and  arid  desert.  Not  the  least  important  part 
of  my  outfit  was  a  letter  from  Mr,  Redslob  to  the 
headman  or  chief  of  the  Chang-pas  or  Champas,  the 
nomadic  tribes  of  Rupchu,  to  whose  encampment 
I  purposed  to  make  a  detour.  These  nomads  had  on 
two  occasions  borrowed  money  from  the  Moravian 
missionaries  for  the  payment  of  the  Kashmiri  tribute, 
and  had  repaid  it  before  it  was  due,  showing  much 
gratitude  for  the  loans, 

Dr,  Marx  accompanied  me  for  the  three  first  days. 
The  few  native  Christians  in  Leh  assembled  in  the 
gay  garden  plot  of  the  lowly  mission-house  to  shake 
hands  and  wish  me  a  good  journey,  and  not  a  few 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  1 13 

who  were  not  Christians,  some  of  them  walking  for  the 
fii-st  hour  beside  our  horses.  The  road  from  Leh 
descends  to  a  rude  wooden  bridge  over  the  Indus, 
a  mighty  stream  even  there,  over  blazing  slopes  of 
gravel  dignified  by  colossal  mianis  and  chod-tens  in 
long  lines,  built  by  the  former  kings  of  Ladak.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  river  gravel  slopes  ascend 
towards  red  mountains  20,000  feet  in  height.  Then 
comes  a  rocky  spur  crowned  by  the  imposing  castle  of 
the  Gyalpo,  the  son  of  the  dethroned  king  of  Ladak, 
surmounted  by  a  forest  of  poles  from  which  flutter 
yaks  tails  and  long  streamers  inscribed  with  prayers. 
Others  bear  aloft  the  trident,  the  emblem  of  Siva. 
Carefully  hewn  zigzags,  entered  through  a  much- 
docorated  and  colossal  chod-ten,  lead  to  the  castle. 
The  village  of  Stok.  the  prettiest  and  most  prosperous 
in  Ladak,  fills  up  the  mouth  of  a  gorge  with  its  large 
farm-houses  among  poplar,  apricot,  and  willow  planta- 
tions, and  irrigated  terraces  of  barley ;  and  is  imposing 
as  well  as  pretty,  for  the  two  roads  by  which  it  is 
approached  are  avenues  of  lofty  chod-tens  and  broad 
manis,  all  in  excellent  repair.  Knolls,  and  deeply 
coloured  spurs  of  naked  rock,  most  picturesquely 
crowded  with  chod-tens,  rise  above  the  greenery, 
breaking  the  purple  gloom  of  the  gorge  which  cuts 
deeply  into   the   mountains,   and   supplies   from    its 

H 


114  AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 

rushing  glacier  torrent  the  living  waters  which  create 
this  delightful  oasis. 

The  goipa  came  forth  to  meet  us,  bearing  apricots 
and  cheeses  as  the  Gyalpo's  greeting,  and  conducted 
us  to  the  camping-ground,  a  sloping  lawn  in  a  willow- 
wood,  with  many  a  natural  bower  of  the  graceful 
Clematis  orientalis.  The  tents  were  pitched,  after- 
noon tea  was  on  a  table  outside,  a  clear,  swift  stream 
made  fitting;  music,  the  dissonance  of  the  ceaseless 
beating  of  gongs  and  drums  in  the  castle  temple  was 
softened  by  distance,  the  air  was  cool,  a  lemon  light 
bathed  the  foreground,  and  to  the  north,  across  the 
Indus,  the  great  mountains  of  the  Leh  range,  with 
every  cleft  defined  in  purple  or  blue,  lifted  their 
vermilion  peaks  into  a  rosy  sky.  It  was  the  poetry 
and  luxury  of  travel. 

At  Leh  I  was  obliged  to  dismiss  the  seis  for  pro- 
longed misconduct  and  cruelty  to  Gyalpo,  and  Mando 
undertook  to  take  care  of  him.  The  animal  had 
always  been  held  by  two  men  while  the  seis  groomed 
him  with  difficulty,  but  at  Stok,  when  Mando  rubbed 
him  down,  he  quietly  went  on  feeding  and  laid  his 
lovely  head  on  the  lad's  shoulder  with  a  soft  cooing 
sound.  From  that  moment  Mando  could  do  anything 
with  him,  and  a  singular  attachment  grew  up  between 
man  and  horse. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  115 

Towards  sunset  we  were  received  by  the  Gyalpo. 
The  castle  loses  nothing  of  its  picturesqueness  on 
a  nearer  view,  and  everything  about  it  is  trim  and  in 
good  order.  It  is  a  substantial  mass  of  stone  building 
on  a  lofty  rock,  the  irregularities  of  which  have  been 
taken  most  artistic  advantage  of  in  order  to  give 
picturesque  irregularity  to  the  edifice,  which,  while  six 
storeys  high  in  some  places,  is  only  three  in  others. 
As  in  the  palace  of  Leh,  the  walls  slope  inwards  from 
the  base,  where  they  are  ten  feet  thick,  and  projecting 
balconies  of  brown  wood  and  grey  stone  relieve  their 
monotony.  We  were  received  at  the  entrance  by 
a  number  of  red  lamas,  who  took  us  up  five  flights 
of  rude  stairs  to  the  reception  room,  where  we  were 
introduced  to  the  Gyalpo,  who  was  in  the  midst  of 
a  crowd  of  monks,  and,  except  that  his  hair  was  not 
shorn,  and  that  he  wore  a  silver  brocade  cap  and 
large  gold  earrings  and  bracelets,  was  dressed  in  red 
like  them.  Throneless  and  childless,  the  Gyalpo  has 
given  himself  up  to  religion.  He  has  covered  the 
castle  roof  with  Buddhist  emblems  (not  represented 
in  the  sketch).  From  a  pole,  forty  feet  long,  on  the 
terrace  floats  a  broad  streamer  of  equal  length,  com- 
pletely covered  with  Aum  mani  padne  hun,  and  he 
has  surrounded  himself  with  lamas,  who  conduct 
nearly   ceaseless    services    in    the    sanctuary.      The 

K  3 


Il5  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

attainment  of  merit,  as  his  creed  leads  him  to  under- 
stand it,  is  his  one  aim  in  life.  He  loves  the  seclusion 
of  Stok,  and  rarely  visits  the  palace  in  Leh,  except  at 
the  time  of  the  winter  games,  when  the  whole  popula- 
tion assembles  in  cheery,  orderly  crowds,  to  witness 
races,  polo  and  archery  matches,  and  a  species  of 
hockey.  He  interests  himself  in  the  prosperity  of 
Stok,  plants  poplars,  willows,  and  fruit  trees,  and 
keeps  the  castle  Tnanis  and  chod-tens  in  admirable 
repair. 

Stok  Castle  is  as  massive  as  any  of  our  mediaeval 
buildings,  but  is  far  lighter  and  roomier.  It  is  most 
interesting  to  see  a  style  of  architecture  and  civilisa- 
tion which  bears  not  a  solitary  trace  of  European 
influence,  not  even  in  Manchester  cottons  or  Russian 
gimcracks.  The  Gyalpo's  room  was  only  roofed  for 
six  feet  within  the  walls,  where  it  was  supported  by 
red  pillars.  Above,  the  deep  blue  Tibetan  sky  was 
flushing  with  the  red  of  sunset,  and  from  a  noble 
window  with  a  covered  stone  balcony  there  was  an 
enchanting  prospect  of  red  ranges  passing  into  trans- 
lucent amethyst.  The  partial  ceiling  is  painted  in 
arabesques,  and  at  one  end  of  the  room  is  an  alcove, 
much  enriched  with  bold  wood  carving. 

The  Gyalpo  was  seated  on  a  carpet  on  the  floor, 
a  smooth-faced,  rather  stupid-looking  man  of  twenty* 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  1 19 

eight.  He  placed  us  on  a  carpet  beside  him,  and 
coffee,  honey,  and  apricots  were  brought  in,  but  the 
conversation  flagged.  He  neither  suggested  anything 
nor  took  up  Dr.  Marx's  suggestions.  Fortunately, 
we  had  brought  our  sketch-books,  and  the  views  of 
several  places  were  recognised,  and  were  found  in- 
teresting. The  lamas  and  servants,  who  had  remained 
respectfully  standing,  sat  down  on  the  floor,  and 
even  the  Gyalpo  became  animated.  So  our  visit 
ended  successfully. 

There  is  a  doorway  from  the  reception  room  into 
the  sanctuary,  and  after  a  time  fully  thirty  lamas 
passed  in  and  began  service,  but  the  Gyalpo  only 
stood  on  his  carpet.  There  is  only  a  half  light  in 
this  temple,  which  is  further  obscured  by  scores  of 
smoked  and  dusty  bannerets  of  gold  and  silver  brocade 
hanging  from  the  roof.  In  addition  to  the  usual 
Buddhist  emblems  there  are  musical  instruments, 
exquisitely  inlaid,  or  enriched  with  niello  work  of 
gold  and  silver  of  great  antiquity,  and  bows  of 
singular  strength,  requiring  two  men  to  bend  them, 
which  are  made  of  small  pieces  of  horn  cleverly 
joined.  Lamas  gabbled  litui-gies  at  railroad  speed, 
beating  drums  and  clashing  cymbals  as  an  accom- 
paniment, while  others  blew  occasional  blasts  on 
the  colossal  silver  ho  ins  or  trumpets,  which  probably 


lao  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

resemble  those  with  which  Jericho  was  encompassed. 
The  music,  the  discordant  and  high-pitched  monotones, 
and  the  revolting  odours  of  stale  smoke  of  juniper 
chips,  of  rancid  butter,  and  of  unwashed  woollen 
clothes  which  drifted  through  the  doorway,  were  over- 
powering. Attempted  fights  among  the  horses  woke 
me  often  during  the  night,  and  the  sound  of  worship 
was  always  borne  over  the  still  air. 

Dr.  Marx  left  on  the  third  day,  after  we  had  visited 
the  monastery  of  Hemis,  the  richest  in  Ladak,  holding 
large  landed  property  and  possessing  much  metallic 
wealth,  including  a  chod-ten  of  silver  and  gold,  thirty 
feet  high,  in  one  of  its  many  halls,  approached  by 
gold-plated  silver  steps  and  incrusted  with  precious 
stones  ;  there  is  also  much  fine  work  in  brass  and 
bronze.  Hemis  abounds  in  decorated  buildings  most 
picturesquely  placed,  it  has  three  hundred  lamas,  and 
is  regarded  as  '  the  sight '  of  Ladak. 

At  Upschi,  after  a  day's  march  over  blazing  gravel 
I  left  the  rushing  olive-green  Indus,  which  I  had 
followed  from  the  bridge  of  Khalsi,  wliere  a  turbulent 
torrent,  the  Upshi  water,  joins  it,  descending  through 
a  gorge  so  narrow  that  the  track,  which  at  all  times 
is  blasted  on  the  face  of  the  precipice,  is  occasionally 
scaSulded.  A  very  extensive  rock-slip  had  carried 
away  the  path  and  rendered  several  fords  necessary, 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  121 

and  before  I  reached  it  rumour  was  busy  with  the 
peril.  It  was  true  that  the  day  before  several  mules 
had  been  carried  away  and  drowned,  that  many  loads 
had  been  sacrificed,  and  that  one  native  traveller  had 
lost  his  life.  So  I  started  my  caravan  at  daybreak, 
to  get  the  water  at  its  lowest,  and  ascended  the  gorge, 
which  is  an  absolutely  verdureless  rift  in  mountains 
of  most  brilliant  and  fantastic  stratification.  At  the 
first  ford  IVTando  was  carried  down  the  river  for  a 
short  distance.  The  second  was  deep  and  strong, 
and  a  caravan  of  valuable  goods  had  been  there  for 
two  da^s,  afraid  to  risk  the  crossing.  My  lahulis, 
who  always  showed  a  great  lack  of  stamina,  sat  down, 
sobbing  and  beating  their  breasts.  Their  sole  wealth, 
they  said,  was  in  their  baggage  animals,  and  the 
river  was  '  wicked,'  and  '  a  demon '  lived  in  it  who 
paralysed  the  horses'  legs.  Much  experience  of 
Orientals  and  of  travel  has  taught  me  to  surmount 
difficuHies  in  my  own  way,  so,  beckoning  to  two 
men  from  the  opposite  side,  who  came  over  shakily 
with  linked  arms,  I  took  the  two  strong  ropes  which 
I  always  carry  on  my  saddle,  and  roped  these  men 
together  and  to  Gyalpo's  halter  with  one,  and  lashed 
Mando  and  the  guide  together  with  the  other,  giving 
them  the  stout  thongs  behind  the  saddle  to  hold  on 
tOj  and  in  this  compact  mass  we  stood  the  strong 


122  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

rush  of  the  river  safely,  the  paralysing  chill  of  its 
icy  waters  being  a  far  more  obvious  peril.  All  the 
baggage  animals  were  brought  over  in  the  same  way, 
and  the  Lahulis  praised  their  gods. 

At  Gya,  a  wild  hamlet,  the  last  in  Ladak  proper, 
I  met  a  working  naturalist  whom  I  had  seen  twice 
before,  and  '  forgathered  '  with  him  much  of  the  way. 
Eleven  days  of  solitary  desert  succeeded.  The  reader 
has  probably  understood  that  no  part  of  the  Indus, 
Shayok,  and  Nubra  valleys,  which  make  up  most 
of  the  province  of  Ladak,  is  less  than  9,500  feet  in 
altitude,  and  that  the  remainder  is  composed  of 
precipitous  mountains  with  glaciers  and  snowfields, 
ranging  from  18,000  to  25,000  feet,  and  that  the 
villages  are  built  mainly  on  alluvial  soil  where 
possibilities  of  irrigation  exist.  But  Rupchu  has 
peculiarities  of  its  own. 

Between  Gya  and  Darcha,  the  first  hamlet  in  Lahul, 
are  three  huge  passes,  the  Toglang,  18,150  feet  in 
altitude,  the  Lachalang,  17,500,  and  the  Baralacha, 
16,000, — all  easy,  except  for  the  difficulties  arising 
from  the  highly  rarefied  air.  The  mountains  of  the 
region,  which  are  from  20,000  to  23,000  feet  in  alti- 
tude, are  seldom  precipitous  or  picturesque,  except 
the  huge  red  needles  which  guard  the  Lachalang  Pass, 
but  are  rather  'monstrous  protuberances,'  with  arid 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  123 

surfaces  of  disintegrated  rock.  Among  these  are 
remarkable  plateaux,  which  are  taken  advantage  of 
by  caravans,  and  which  have  elevations  of  from  14,000 
to  15,000  feet.  There  are  few  permanent  rivers  or 
streams,  the  lakes  are  salt,  beside  the  springs,  and 
on  the  plateaux  there  is  scanty  vegetation,  chiefly 
aromatic  herbs  ;  but  on  the  whole  Rupchu  is  a  desert 
of  arid  gravel.  Its  only  inhabitants  are  500  nomads, 
and  on  the  ten  marches  of  the  trade  route,  the  bridle 
paths,  on  which  in  some  places  labour  has  been  spent, 
the  tracks,  not  always  very  legible,  made  by  the 
passage  of  caravans,  and  rude  d^kes,  behind  which 
travellers  may  shelter  themselves  from  the  wind,  are 
the  only  traces  of  man.  Herds  of  the  kymig,  the 
wild  horse  of  some  naturalists,  and  the  wild  ass  of 
others,  graceful  and  beautiful  creatures,  graze  within 
gunshot  of  the  track  without  alarm. 

I  had  thought  Ladak  windy,  but  Rupchu  is  the 
home  of  the  winds,  and  the  marches  must  be  arranged 
for  the  quietest  time  of  the  day.  Happily  the  gales 
blow  with  clockwork  regularity,  the  day  wind  from 
the  south  and  south-west  rising  punctually  at  9  a.m. 
and  attaining  its  maximum  at  2.30,  while  the  night 
wind  from  the  north  and  north-east  rises  about  9  p.m. 
and  ceases  about  5  a.m.  Perfect  silence  is  rare.  The 
highly  rarefied  air,  rushing  at  great  speed,  when  at 


124  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

its  worst  deprives  the  traveller  of  breath,  skins  his 
face  and  hands,  and  paralyses  the  baggage  animals. 
In  fact,  neither  man  nor  beast  can  face  it.  The  horses 
'  turn  tail '  and  crowd  together,  and  the  men  buihl  up 
the  baggage  into  a  wall  and  crouch  in  the  lee  of  it. 
The  heat  of  the  solar  rays  is  at  the  same  time  fearful. 
At  Lachalang,  at  a  height  of  over  15,000  feet,  I  noted 
a  solar  temperature  of  152°,  only  '3^^  below  the  boiling 
point  of  water  in  the  same  region,  which  is  about 
187°.  To  make  up  i'or  this,  the  mercury  falls  below 
the  freezing  point  every  night  of  the  year,  even  in 
August  the  difference  of  temperature  in  twelve  hours 
often  exceeding  1 20°  !  The  Rupchu  nomads,  how- 
ever, delight  in  this  climate  of  extremes,  and  regard 
Leh  as  a  place  only  to  be  visited  in  winter,  and  Kulu 
and  Kashmir  as  if  they  were  the  malarial  swamps  of 
the  Congo  ! 

We  crossed  the  Toglang  Pass,  at  a  height  of  18,150 
feet,  with  less  suffering  from  ladug  than  on  either  the 
Digar  or  Kharzong  Passes.  Indeed  Gyalpo  carried 
me  over  it  stopping  to  take  brei.th  ever}^  few  yards. 
It  was  then  a  long  dreary  march  to  the  camping- 
ground  of  Tsala,  where  the  Chang- pas  spend  the  four 
summer  months  ;  the  guides  and  baggage  animals 
lost  the  way  and  did  not  appear  until  the  next  day, 
and  in  consequence  the  servants  slept  unsheltered  in 


>J5"I 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  IZf 

the  snow.  News  travels  as  if  by  magic  in  desert 
places.  Towards  evening,  while  riding  by  a  stream 
up  a  long  and  tedious  valley,  I  saw  a  number  of 
moving  specks  on  the  crest  of  a  hill,  and  down  came 
a  surge  of  horsemen  riding  furiously.  Just  as  they 
threatened  to  sweep  G^-alpo  away,  they  threw  their 
horses  on  their  haunches,  in  one  moment  were  on  the 
ground,  which  they  touched  with  their  foreheads, 
presented  me  with  a  plate  of  apricots,  and  the  next 
vaulted  into  their  saddles,  and  dashing  up  the  valley 
were  soon  out  of  sight.  In  another  half-hour  there 
was  a  second  wild  rush  of  horsemen,  the  headman 
dismounted,  threw  himself  on  his  face,  kissed  my 
hand,  vaulted  into  the  saddle,  and  then  led  a  swirl  of 
his  tribesmen  at  a  gallop  in  ever-narrowing  circles 
round  me  till  they  subsided  into  the  decorum  of  an 
escort.  An  elevated  plateau  with  some  vegetation  on 
it,  a  row  of  forty  tents,  '  black '  but  not  '  comely,' 
a  bright  rapid  river,  wild  hills,  long  lines  of  white 
sheep  converging  towards  the  camp,  yaks  rampaging 
down  the  hillsides,  men  running  to  meet  us,  and 
women  and  children  in  the  distance  were  singularly 
idealised  in  the  golden  glow  of  a  cool,  moist  evening. 
Two  men  took  my  bridle,  and  two  more  proceeded 
to  put  their  hands  on  my  stirrups  ;  but  Gyalpo  kicked 
them  to  the  right  and  left  amidst  shrieks  of  laughter, 


128  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

after  which,  with  frantic  gesticulations  and  yells  of 
'  Kabardar  f '  I  was  led  through  the  river  in  triumph 
and  hauled  off  my  horse.  The  tribesmen  were  much 
excited.  Some  dashed  about,  performing  feats  of 
horsemanship ;  others  brought  apricots  and  dough- 
balls  made  with  apricot  oil,  or  rushed  to  the  tents, 
returning  with  rugs ;  some  cleared  the  camping- 
ground  of  stones  and  raised  a  stone  platform,  and 
a  flock  of  goats,  exquisitely  white  from  the  daily 
swims  across  the  river,  were  brought  to  be  milked. 
Gradually  and  shrinkingly  the  women  and  children 

drew  near  ;  but  Mr. "s  Bengali  servant  threatened 

them  with  a  whip,  when  there  was  a  general  stampede, 
the  women  running  like  hares.  I  had  trained  my 
servants  to  treat  the  natives  courteously,  and  addressed 
some  rather  strong  language  to  the  offender,  and 
afterwards  succeeded  in  enticing  all  the  fugitives 
back  by  showing  my  sketches,  which  gave  boundless 
pleasure  and  led  to  very  numerous  requests  for 
portraits!  The  gopa,  though  he  had  the  oblique 
Mongolian  eyes,  was  a  handsome  young  man,  with 
a  good  nose  and  mouth.  He  was  dressed  like  the 
others  in  a  girdled  chaga  of  coarse  serge,  but  wore 
a  red  cap  turned  up  over  the  ears  with  fine  fur, 
a  silver  inkhorn,  and  a  Yarkand  knife  in  a  chased 
silver  sheath  in  his  girdle,  and  canary-coloured  leather 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  129 

shoes  with  turned-up  points.  The  people  prepared 
one  of  their  own  tents  for  me,  and  laying  down 
a  number  of  rugs  of  their  own  dyeing  and  weaving, 
assured  me  of  an  unbounded  welcome  as  a  friend  of 
their  'benefactor,'  Mr.  Redslob,  and  then  proposed 
that  I  should  visit  their  tents  accompanied  by  all  the 
elders  of  the  triba 


CHAPTER   V 

CLIMATE   AND   NATURAL   FEATURES 

The  last  chapter  left  me  with  the  chief  and  elders 
of  the  Chang-pas  starting  on  '  a  round  of  visits,'  and 
it  was  not  till  nightfall  that  the  solemn  ceremony  was 
concluded.  Each  of  the  fifty  tents  was  visited :  at 
every  one  a  huge,  savage  Tibetan  mastiff  made  an 
attempt  to  fly  at  me,  and  was  pounced  upon  and  held 
down  by  a  woman  little  bigger  than  himself,  and  in 
each  cheese  and  milk  were  offered  and  refused.  In 
all  I  received  a  hearty  welcome  for  the  sake  of  the 
•great  father,'  Mr.  Eedslob,  who  designated  these 
people  as  '  the  simplest  and  kindliest  people  on  earth.' 

This  Chang-pa  tribe,  numbering  five  hundred  souls, 
makes  four  moves  in  the  year,  dividing  in  summer, 
and  uniting  in  a  valley  very  free  from  snow  in  the 
winter.  They  are  an  exclusively  pastoral  people,  and 
possess  large  herds  of  yaks  and  ponies  and  immense 
flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  the  latter  almost  entirely 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       131 

the  beautiful  'shawl  goat,'  from  the  undergrowth  at 
the  base  of  the  long  hair  of  which  the  fine  Kashmir 
shawls  are  made.  This  pashm  is  a  provision  which 
Nature  makes  against  the  intense  cold  of  these 
altitudes,  and  grows  on  yahs,  sheep,  and  dogs,  as  well 
as  on  most  of  the  wild  animals.  The  sheep  is  the  big, 
hornless,  flop -eared  hunlya.  The  yaks  and  sheep  are 
the  load  carriers  of  Rupchu.  Small  or  easily  divided 
merchandise  is  carried  by  sheep,  and  bulkier  goods 
by  yaks,  and  the  Chang-pas  make  a  great  deal  of 
money  by  carrying  for  the  Lahul,  Central  Ladak,  and 
Rudok  merchants,  their  sheep  travelling  as  far  as  Gar 
in  Chinese  Tibet.  They  are  paid  in  grain  as  well  as 
coin,  their  own  country  producing  no  farinaceous 
food.  They  have  only  two  uses  for  silver  money. 
With  part  of  their  gains  they  pay  the  tribute  to 
Kashmir,  and  they  melt  the  rest,  and  work  it  into 
rude  personal  ornaments.  According  to  an  old 
arrangement  between  Lhassa  and  Leh,  they  carry 
brick  tea  free  for  the  Lhassa  merchants.  They  are 
Buddhists,  and  practise  polyandry,  but  their  young 
men  do  not  become  lamas,  and  owing  to  the  scarcity 
of  fuel,  instead  of  burning  their  dead,  they  expose 
them  with  religious  rites  face  upwards  in  desolate 
places,  to  be  made  away  with  by  the  birds  of  the  air. 
All  their  tents  have  a  god-shelf,  on  which  are  placed 

I  2 


I-^i  AMONG   THE   TIBETANS 

small  images  and  sacred  emblems.  They  dress  as  the 
Ladakis,  except  that  the  men  wear  shoes  with  very- 
high  turned-up  points,  and  that  the  women,  in  addition 
to  the  perak,  the  usual  ornament,  place  on  the  top  of 
the  head  a  large  silver  coronet  with  three  tassels.  In 
physiognomy  they  resemble  the  Ladakis,  but  the 
Mongolian  type  is  purer,  the  eyes  are  more  oblique, 
and  the  eyelids  have  a  greater  droop,  the  chins  project 
more,  and  the  mouths  are  handsomer.  Many  of  the 
men,  including  the  headman,  were  quite  good-looking, 
but  the  upper  lips  of  the  women  were  apt  to  be 
'tucked  up,'  displaying  very  square  teeth,  as  we  have 
shown  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

The  roofs  of  the  Tsala  tents  are  nearly  flat,  and 
the  middle  has  an  opening  six  inches  wide  along  its 
whole  length.  An  excavation  from  twelve  to  twenty- 
four  inches  deep  is  made  in  the  soil,  and  a  rude 
wall  of  stones,  about  one  foot  high,  is  built  round 
it,  over  which  the  tent  cloth,  made  in  narrow  widths 
of  yak's  or  goat's  hair,  is  extended  by  ropes  led 
over  forked  sticks.  There  is  no  ridge  pole,  and  the 
centre  is  supported  on  short  poles,  to  the  projecting 
tops  of  which  prayer  flags  and  yaks'  tails  are  attached. 
The  interior,  though  dark,  is  not  too  dark  for  weaving, 
and  each  tent  has  its  loom,  for  the  Chang-pas  not 
only  weave  their  coarse  woollen  clothing  and  hair 


^^     Af:¥x#\\lilM.    .:! 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES      135 

cloth  for  saddlebags  and  tents,  but  rugs  of  wool 
dyed  in  rich  colours  made  from  native  roots.  The 
largest  tent  was  twenty  feet  by  fifteen,  but  the 
majority  measured  only  fourteen  feet  by  eight  and 
ten  feet.  The  height  in  no  case  exceeded  six  feet. 
In  these  much  ventilated  and  scarcely  warmed  shelters 
these  hardy  nomads  brave  the  tremendous  winds 
and  winter  rigours  of  their  climate  at  altitudes 
varying  from  13,000  to  14,500  feet.  Water  freezes 
every  night  of  the  year,  and  continually  there  are 
differences  in  temperature  of  100°  between  noon 
and  midnight.  In  addition  to  the  fifty  dwelling  tents 
there  was  one  considerably  larger,  in  which  the 
people  store  their  wool  and  goat's  hair  till  the  time 
arrives  for  taking  them  to  market.  The  floor  of 
several  of  the  tents  was  covered  with  rugs,  and 
besides  looms  and  confused  heaps  of  what  looked 
like  rubbish,  there  were  tea-churns,  goatskin  churns, 
sheep  and  goat  skins,  children's  bows  and  arrows, 
cooking  pots,  and  heaps  of  the  furze  root,  which 
is  used  as  fuel. 

They  expended  much  of  this  scarce  commodity 
upon  me  in  their  hospitality,  and  kept  up  a  bonfire 
all  night.  They  mounted  their  wiry  ponies  and 
performed  feats  of  horsemanship,  in  one  of  which 
all    the    animals   threw   themselves    on   their    hind 


136  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

legs  in  a  circle  when  a  man  in  the  centre  clapped 
his  hands ;  and  they  crowded  my  tent  to  see  my 
sketches,  and  were  not  satisfied  till  I  executed  some 
daubs  professing  to  represent  some  of  the  elders. 
The  excitement  of  their  first  visit  from  a  European 
woman  lasted  late  into  the  night,  and  when  they 
at  last  retired  they  persisted  in  placing  a  guard  of 
honour  round  my  tent. 

In  the  morning  there  was  ice  on  the  pools,  and 
the  snow  lay  three  inches  deep.  Savage  life  had 
returned  to  its  usual  monotony,  and  the  care  of 
flocks  and  herds.  In  the  early  afternoon  the  chief 
and  many  of  the  men  accompanied  us  across  the 
ford,  and  we  parted  with  mutual  expressions  of  good 
will.  The  march  was  through  broad  gravelly  valleys, 
among  '  monstrous  protuberances '  of  red  and  yellow 
gravel,  elevated  by  their  height  alone  to  the  dignity 
of  mountains.  Hail  came  on,  and  Gyalpo  showed 
his  high  breeding  by  facing  it  when  the  other  animals 
'  turned  tail '  and  huddled  together,  and  a  storm  of 
heavy  sleet  of  some  hours'  duration  burst  upon  us 
just  as  we  reached  the  dismal  camping  ground  of  Ruk- 
chen,  guarded  by  mountain  giants  which  now  and  then 
showed  glimpses  of  their  white  skirts  through  the 
dark  driving  mists.  That  was  the  only  '  weather '  in 
four  months. 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES      137 

A  largfe  caravan  from  the  heat  and  sunshine  of 
Amritsar  was  there.  The  goods  were  stacked  under 
goat's  hair  shelters,  the  mules  were  huddled  together 
without  food,  and  their  shivering  Panjahi  drivers, 
muffled  in  blankets  which  only  left  one  eye  exposed, 
were  grubbing  up  furze  roots  wherewith  to  make 
smoky  fires.  My  baggage,  which  had  arrived  pre- 
viously, was  lying  soaking  in  the  sleet,  while  the 
wretched  servants  were  trying  to  pitch  the  tent  in 
the  high  wind.  They  had  slept  out  in  the  snow  the 
night  before,  and  were  mentally  as  well  as  physically 
benumbed.  Their  misery  had  a  comic  side  to  it, 
and  as  the  temperature  made  me  feel  specially  well, 
I  enjoyed  bestirring  myself,  and  terrified  Mando, 
who  was  feebly  '  fadding '  with  a  rag,  by  giving 
Gyalpo  a  vigorous  rub- down  with  a  bath-towel. 
Hassan  Khan,  with  chattering  teeth  and  severe 
neuralgia,  muffled  in  my  'fisherman's  hood'  under 
his  turban,  was  trying  to  do  his  work  with  his 
unfailing  pluck.  Mando  was  shedding  futile  tears 
over  wet  furze  which  would  not  light,  the  small 
wet  corrie  was  dotted  over  with  the  Amritsar  men 
sheltering  under  rocks  and  nursing  hopeless  fires, 
and  fifty  mules  and  horses,  with  dejected  heads 
and  dripping  tails,  and  their  backs  to  the  merciless 
wind,  were  attempting  to  pick  some  food  from  scanty 


138  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

herbage  already  nibbled  to  the  root.  My  tent  was 
a  picture  of  grotesque  discomfort.  The  big  stones 
had  not  been  picked  out  from  the  gravel,  the  bed 
stood  in  puddles,  the  thick  horse  blanket  was  draining 
over  the  one  chair,  the  servant's  spare  clothing  and 
stores  were  on  the  table,  the  yak^  loads  of  wet  hay 
and  the  soaked  grain  sack  filled  up  most  of  the 
space ;  a  wet  candle  sputtered  and  went  out,  wet 
clothes  dripped  from  the  tent  hook,  and  every  now 
and  then  Hassan  Khan  looked  in  with  one  eye, 
gasping  out,  '  Mem  Sahib,  I  can  no  light  the  fire ! ' 
Perseverance  succeeds  eventually,  and  cups  of  a  strong 
stimulant  made  of  Burroughes  and  Wellcome's  vigorous 
'  valoid '  tincture  of  ginger  and  hot  water,  revived 
the  men  all  round.  Such  was  its  good  but  innocent 
effect,  that  early  the  next  morning  Hassan  came  into 
my  tent  with  two  eyes,  and  convulsed  with  laughter. 
'The  pony  men'  and  Mando,  he  said,  were  crying, 
and  the  coolie  from  Leh,  who  before  the  storm  had 
wanted  to  go  the  whole  way  to  Simla,  after  refusing 
his  supper  had  sobbed  all  night  under  the  'flys'  of 
my  tent,  while  I  was  sleeping  soundly.  Afterwards 
I  harangued  them,  and  told  them  I  would  let  them 
go,  and  help  them  back ;  I  could  not  take  such  poor- 
spirited  miserable  creatures  with  me,  and  I  would 
keep  the  Tartars  who  had  accompanied  me  from  Tsala. 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES      I39 

On  this  they  protested,  and  said,  with  a  significant 
gesture,  I  might  cut  their  throats  if  they  cried  any 
more,  and  begged  me  to  try  them  again;  and  as  we 
had  no  more  bad  weather,  there  was  no  more  trouble. 
The  marches  which  followed  were  along  valleys, 
plains,  and  mountain-sides  of  gravel,  destitute  of 
herbage,  except  a  shrivelled  artemisia,  and  on  one 
occasion  the  baggage  animals  were  forty  hours  with- 
out food.  Fresh  water  was  usually  very  scarce,  and 
on  the  Lingti  plains  was  only  obtainable  by  scooping 
it  up  from  the  holes  left  by  the  feet  of  animals. 
Insect  life  was  rare,  and  except  grey  doves,  the  '  dove 
of  the  valleys,'  which  often  flew  before  us  for  miles 
down  the  ravines,  no  bii"ds  were  to  be  seen.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  were  numerous  herds  of  hyang, 
which  in  the  early  mornings  came  to  drink  of  the 
water  by  which  the  camps  were  pitched.  By  looking 
through  a  crevice  of  my  tent  I  saw  them  distinctly, 
without  alarming  them.  In  one  herd  I  counted  forty. 
They  kept  together  in  families,  sire,  dam,  and  foal. 
The  animal  certainly  is  under  fourteen  hands,  and 
resembles  a  mule  rather  than  a  horse  or  ass.  The 
noise,  which  I  had  several  opportunities  of  hearing, 
is  more  like  a  neigh  than  a  bray,  but  lacks  complete- 
ness. The  creature  is  light  brown,  almost  fawn  colour, 
fading  into  white  under  his  body,  and  he  has  a  dark 


140  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

stripe  on  his  back,  but  not  a  cross.  His  ears  are 
long,  and  his  tail  is  like  that  of  a  mule.  He  trots 
and  gallops,  and  when  alarmed  gallops  fast,  but  as 
he  is  not  worth  hunting,  he  has  not  a  great  dread  of 
humanity,  and  families  of  hyang  frequently  grazed 
within  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  us.  He  is 
about  as  untamable  as  the  zebra,  and  with  his  family 
affectionateness  leads  apparently  a  very  happy  life. 

On  the  Kwangchu  plateau,  at  an  elevation  of 
15^00  feet,  I  met  with  a  form  of  life  which  has 
a  great  interest  of  its  own,  sheep  caravans,  numbering 
among  them  7,000  sheep,  each  animal  with  its  wool 
on,  and  equipped  with  a  neat  packsaddle  and  two 
leather  or  hair-cloth  bags,  and  loaded  with  from 
twenty- five  to  thirt3--two  pounds  of  salt  or  borax. 
These,  and  many  more  which  we  passed,  were  carrying 
their  loads  to  Patseo,  a  mountain  valley  in  Lahul, 
where  they  arc  met  by  traders  from  Northern  British 
India.  The  shec^D  are  shorn,  and  the  wool  and  loads 
are  exchanged  for  wheat  and  a  few  other  commodities, 
with  which  they  return  to  Tibet,  the  whole  journey 
taking  from  nine  months  to  a  year.  As  the  sheep 
live  by  grazing  the  scanty  herbage  on  the  march, 
they  never  accomplish  more  than  ten  miles  a  day, 
and  as  they  often  become  footsore,  halts  of  several 
days  ai'C  frequently  required.     Sheep,  dead  or  dying, 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES      143 

with  the  bh'ds  of  prey  picking  out  their  eyes,  were 
often  met  with.  Ordinarily  these  caravans  are  led  by 
a  man,  followed  by  a  large  goat  much  bedecked  and 
wearing  a  large  bell.  Each  driver  has  charge  of  one 
hundred  sheep.  These  men,  of  small  stature  but  very 
thickset,  with  their  wide  smooth  faces,  loose  clothing 
of  sheepskin  with  the  wool  outside,  with  their  long 
coarse  hair  flying  in  the  wind,  and  their  uncouth 
shouts  in  a  barbarous  tongue,  are  much  like  savages. 
They  sing  wild  chants  as  they  picket  their  sheep  in 
long  double  lines  at  night,  and  with  their  savage 
mastiffs  sleep  unsheltered  under  the  frosty  skies  under 
the  lee  of  their  piled-up  saddlebags.  On  three  nights 
I  camped  beside  their  caravans,  and  walked  round 
their  orderly  lines  of  sheep  and  their  neat  walls  of 
saddlebags ;  and,  far  from  showing  any  discourtesy 
or  rude  curiosity,  they  held  down  their  fierce  dogs 
and  exhibited  their  ingenious  mode  of  tethering  their 
animals,  and  not  one  of  the  many  articles  which  my 
servants  were  in  the  habit  of  leaving  outside  the  tents 
was  on  any  occasion  abstracted.  The  dogs,  however, 
were  less  honest  than  their  masters,  and  on  one  night 
ran  away  with  half  a  sheep,  and  I  should  have  fared 

poorly  had  not  Mr. shot  some  grey  doves. 

Marches   across   sandy   and   gravelly   valleys,   and 
along  arid  mountain-sides   spotted  with   a  creeping 


144  AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 

furze  and  cushions  of  a  yellow-green  moss  which 
seems  able  to  exist  without  moisture,  fords  of  the 
Sumgyal  and  Tserap  rivers,  and  the  crossing  of  the 
Lachalang  Pass  at  an  altitude  of  17,500  feet  in  severe 
frost,  occupied  several  uneventful  days.  Of  the  three 
lofty  passes  on  this  route,  the  Toglang,  which  is 
higher,  and  the  Baralacha,  which  is  lower,  are  feature- 
less billows  of  gravel,  over  which  a  carriage  might 
easily  be  driven.  Not  so  is  the  Lachalang,  though 
its  well-made  zigzags  are  easy  for  laden  animals. 
The  approach  to  it  is  fantastic,  among  precipitous 
mountains  of  red  sandstone,  and  red  rocks  weathered 
into  pillars,  men's  heads,  and  numerous  groups  of 
gossipy  old  women  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  high,  in 
flat  hats  and  long  circular  cloaks !  Entering  by  red 
gates  of  rock  into  a  region  of  gigantic  mountains,  and 
following  up  a  crystal  torrent,  the  valley  narrowing 
to  a  gorge,-  and  the  gorge  to  a  chasm  guarded  by 
nearly  perpendicular  needles  of  rock  flaming  in  the 
westering  sun,  we  forded  the  river  at  the  chasm's 
throat,  and  camped  on  a  velvety  green  lawn  just 
large  enough  for  a  few  tents,  absolutely  walled  in  by 
abrupt  mountains  18,000  and  19,000  feet  in  height. 
Long  after  the  twilight  settled  down  on  us,  the 
pinnacles  above  glowed  in  warm  sunshine,  and  the 
following  morning,  when  it  was  only  dawn  Ipelgw, 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       145 

and  the  still  river  pools  were  frozen  and  the  grass 
was  white  with  hoar-frost,  the  morning  sun  reddened 
the  snow-peaks  and  kindled  into  vermilion  the  red 
needles  of  Lachalang.  That  camping-ground  under 
such  conditions  is  the  grandest  and  most  romantic 
spot  of  the  whole  journey. 

Verdureless  and  waterless  stretches,  in  crossing 
which  our  poor  animals  were  two  nights  without 
food,  brought  us  to  the  glacier-blue  waters  of  the 
Serchu,  tumbling  along  in  a  deep  broad  gash,  and 
farther  on  to  a  lateral  torrent  which  is  the  boundary 
between  Rupchu,  tributary  to  Kashmir,  and  Lahul  or 
British  Tibet,  under  the  rule  of  the  Empress  of  India. 
The  tents  were  ready  pitched  in  a  grassy  hollow  by 
the  river;  horses,  cows,  and  goats  were  grazing  near 
them,  and  a  number  of  men  were  preparing  food. 
A  Tibetan  approached  me,  accompanied  by  a  creature 
in  a  nondescript  dress  speaking  Hindustani  volubly. 
On  a  band  acro.ss  his  breast  were  the  Eritish  crown, 
and  a  plate  with  the  words  '  Commissioner's  cliap- 
rassie,  Kulu  district.'  I  ne"ver  felt  so  extinguished. 
Liberty  seemed  lost,  and  the  romance  of  the  desert 
to  have  died  out  in  one  moment !  At  the  camping- 
ground  I  found  rows  of  salaaming  Lahulis  drawn  up, 
and  Hassan  Khan  in  a  state  which  was  a  compound 
of  pomposity  and  jubilant  excitement.     The  tahsildar 

K 


146  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

(really  the  Tibetan  honorary  magistrate),  he  said,  had 
received  instructions  from  the  Lieutenant-Governor  of 
the  Panjab  that  I  was  on  the  way  to  Kylang,  and 
was  to  'want  for  nothing.'  So  twenty -four  men, 
nine  horses,  a  flock  of  goats,  and  two  cows  had  been 
waiting  for  me  for  three  days  in  the  Serchu  valley. 
I  wrote  a  polite  note  to  the  magistrate,  and  sent  all 
back  except  the  chaprassie,  the  cows,  and  the  cow- 
herd, my  servants  looking  much  crestfallen. 

We  crossed  the  Baralacha  Pass  in  wind  and  snow 
showers  into  a  climate  in  which  moisture  began  to  be 
obvious.  At  short  distances  along  the  pass,  which 
extends  for  many  miles,  there  are  rude  semicircular 
walls,  three  feet  high,  all  turned  in  one  direction,  in 
the  shelter  of  which  travellers  crouch  to  escape  from 
the  strong  cutting  wind.  My  men  suffered  far  more 
than  on  the  two  higher  passes,  and  it  was  difficult  to 
dislodge  them  from  these  shelters,  where  they  lay 
groaning,  gasping,  and  suffering  from  vertigo  and 
nose-bleeding.  The  cold  was  so  severe  that  I  walked 
over  the  loftiest  part  of  the  pass,  and  for  the  first 
time  felt  slight  effects  of  the  ladug.  At  a  height  of 
15,000  feet,  in  the  midst  of  general  desolation,  grew, 
in  the  shelter  of  rocks,  poppies  {Mecanopsis  aculeata), 
blue  as  the  Tibetan  skies,  their  centres  filled  with 
a  cluster  of  golden-yellow  stamens,— a  most  charming 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       I47 

sight.  Ten  or  twelve  of  these  exquisite  blossoms 
grow  on  one  stalk,  and  stalk,  leaf,  and  seed-vessels  are 
guarded  by  very  stiff  thorns.  Lower  down  flowers 
abounded,  and  at  the  camping-ground  of  Patseo 
(12,000  feet),  where  the  Tibetan  sheep  caravans  ex- 
change their  wool,  salt,  and  borax  for  grain,  the 
ground  was  covered  with  soft  greensward,  and  real  rain 
fell.  Seen  from  the  Baralacha  Pass  are  vast  snow- 
fields,  glaciers,  and  avalanche  slopes.  This  barrier, 
and  the  Rotang,  farther  south,  close  this  trade  route 
practically  for  seven  months  of  the  year,  for  they 
catch  the  monsoon  rains,  which  at  that  altitude  are 
snows  from  fifteen  to  thirty  feet  deep ;  while  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Baralacha  and  throughout  Rupchu 
and  Ladak  the  snowfall  is  insignificant.  So  late  as 
August,  when  I  crossed,  there  were  four  perfect  snow 
bridges  over  the  Bhaga,  and  snowfields  thirty-six  feet 
deep  along  its  margin.  At  Patseo  the  tahsildar,  with 
a  retinue  and  animals  laden  with  fodder,  came  to  pay 
his  respects  to  me,  and  invited  me  to  his  house,  three 
days'  journey.  These  were  the  first  human  beings  we 
had  seen  for  three  days. 

A  few  miles  south  of  the  Baralacha  Pass  some 
birch  trees  appeared  on  a  slope,  the  first  natural 
growth  of  timber  that  I  had  seen  since  crossing  the 
Zoji  La.     Lower  down  there  were  a  few  more,  then 


148  AMONG  THE   TIBETANS 

stunted  specimens  of  the  pencil  cedar,  and  the  moun- 
tains began  to  show  a  shade  of  green  on  their  lower 
slopes.  Butterflies  appeared  also,  and  a  vulture,  a 
grand  bird  on  t'le  wing,  hovered  ominously  over  us 
for  some  miles,  and  was  succeeded  by  an  equally 
ominous  raven.  On  the  excellent  bridle-track  cut 
on  the  face  of  the  precipices  which  overhang  the 
Bhaga,  there  is  in  nine  miles  only  one  spot  in  which 
it  is  possible  to  pitch  a  five-foot  tent,  and  at  Darcha, 
the  first  hamlet  in  Lahul,  the  only  camping-ground 
is  on  the  house  roofs.  There  the  Chang-pas  and 
their  yolc^s  and  horses  who  had  served  me  pleasantly 
and  faithfully  from  Tsala  left  me,  and  returned  to 
the  freedom  of  their  desert  life.  At  Kolang,  the  next 
hamlet;,  where  the  thunder  of  the  Lhaga  was  almost 
intolerable,  Hara  Chang,  the  luagistrate,  one  of  the 
thakurs  or  feudal  proprietors  of  Lahul,  with  his  son 
and  nephew  and  a  large  retinue,  called  on  me ;  and 

the  next  morning  Mr. and  I  went  by  invitation 

to  visit  him  in  his  cr.stle,  a  magnificently  situated 
building  on  a  rocky  spur  i.oco  feet  above  the  camping- 
ground,  attained  by  a  difficult  climb,  and  nearly  on  a 
level  with  the  glittering  glaciers  and  ice-falls  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Bhaga.  It  only  diffet-s  from  Leh 
and  Stok  castles  in  having  blue  glass  in  some  of  the 
smaller  windows.     In  the  family  temple,  in  addition 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES      \^\ 

to  the  usual  life-size  images  of  Buddha  and  the  Triad, 
there  was  a  female  divinity,  carved  at  Jallandhur  in 
India,  copied  from  a  statue  representing  Queen  Victoria 
in  her  younger  days — a  very  fitting  possession  for 
the  highest  government  official  in  Lahul.  The  thahur^ 
Hara  Chang,  is  wealthy  and  a  rigid  Buddhist,  and 
uses  his  very  considerable  influence  against  the  work 
of  the  Moravian  missionaries  in  the  valley.  The 
rude  path  down  to  the  bridle-road,  through  fields  of 
barley  and  buckwheat,  is  bordered  by  roses,  goose- 
berries, and  masses  of  wild  flowers. 

The  later  marches  after  reaching  Darcha  are  grand 
beyond  all  description.  The  track,  scaffolded  or 
blasted  out  of  the  rock  at  a  height  of  from  i,ooo  to 
3,000  feet  above  the  thundering  Bhaga,  is  scarcely 
a  rifle-shot  from  the  mountain  mass  dividing  it  from 
the  Chandra,  a  mass  covered  with  nearly  unbroken 
ice  and  snowfields,  out  of  which  rise  pinnacles  of 
naked  rock  21,000  and  22,000  feet  in  altitude.  The 
region  is  the  'abode  of  snow,'  and  glaciers  of  great 
size  fill  up  every  depression.  Humidity,  vegetation, 
and  beauty  reappear  together,  wild  flowers  and  ferns 
abound,  and  pencil  cedars  in  clumps  rise  above  the 
artificial  plantations  of  the  valley.  Wheat  ripens 
at  an  altitude  of  12,000  feet.  Picturesque  villages, 
surrounded  by  orchards,  adorn  the  mountain  spurs; 


15J>  AMONG   THE  TIBETANS 

chod-tens  and  gonpos,  with  white  walls  and  flutter- 
ing flags,  brighten  the  scene  ;  feudal  castles  crown 
the  heights,  and  where  the  mountains  are  loftiest, 
the  snowfields  and  glaciers  most  imposing,  and  the 
greenery  densest,  the  village  of  Kylang,  the  most 
important  in  Lahul  as  the  centre  of  trade,  govern- 
ment, and  Christian  missions,  hangs  on  ledges  of  the 
mountain-side  i,ooo  feet  above  Bhaga,  whose  furious 
course  can  be  traced  far  down  the  valley  by  flashes 
of  sunlit  foam. 

The  Lahul  valley,  which  is  a  part  of  British  Tibet, 
has  an  altitude  of  io,cco  feet.  It  prospers  under 
British  rule,  its  population  has  increased,  Hindu 
merchants  have  settled  in  Kylang,  the  route  through 
Lahul  to  Central  Asia  is  findinoj  increasing  favour 
with  the  Panjabi  traders,  and  the  Moravian  mission- 
aries, by  a  bolder  system  of  irrigation  and  the  pro- 
vision of  storage  for  water,  have  largely  increased 
the  quantity  of  arable  land.  The  Lahulis  are  chiefly 
Tibetans,  but  Hinduism  is  largely  mixed  up  with 
Buddhism  in  the  lower  villages.  All  the  gonpos, 
however,  have  been  restored  and  enlarged  during 
the  last  twenty  years.  In  winter  the  snow  lies 
fi.fteen  feet  deep,  and  for  four  or  five  months,  owing 
to  the  perils  of  the  Piotang  Pass,  the  valley  rarely 
has  any  communication  with  the  outer  world. 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       1 53 

At  the  foot  of  the  village  of  Kylang,  which  is 
built  in  tier  above  tier  of  houses  up  the  steep  side 
of  a  mountain  with  a  height  of  21,000  feet,  are  the 
Moravian  mission  buildings,  long,  low,  whitewashed 
erections,  of  the  simplest  possible  construction,  the 
design  and  much  of  the  actual  erection  being  the 
work  of  these  capable  Germans.  The  large  building, 
which  has  a  deep  verandah,  the  only  place  in  which 
exercise  can  be  taken  in  the  winter,  contains  the 
native  church,  three  rooms  for  each  missionary,  and 
two  guest-rooms.  Round  the  garden  are  the  printing 
rooms,  the  medicine  and  store  room  (stores  arriving 
once  in  two  3'ears),  and  another  guest-room.  Round 
an  adjacent  enclosure  are  the  houses  occupied  in  winter 
by  the  Christians  when  they  come  down  with  their 
sheep  and  cattle  from  the  hill  farms.  All  is  absolutely 
plain,  and  as  absolutely  clean  and  trim.  The  guest- 
rooms and  cne  or  two  of  the  Tibetan  rooms  are 
papered  with  engravings  from  the  Illustrated  London 
Neivs,  but  the  rooms  of  the  missionaries  are  only 
whitewashed,  and  by  their  extreme  bareness  reminded 
me  of  those  of  very  poor  pastors  in  the  Fatherland.  A 
garden,  brilliant  with  zinnias,  dianthus,  and  petunias, 
all  of  immense  size,  and  planted  with  European  trees, 
is  an  oasis,  and  in  it  I  camped  for  some  weeks  under 
a  willow  tree,  covered,  as  many  are,  with  a  sweet 


154  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

secretion  so  abundant  as  to  drop  on  the  roof  of  the 
tent,  and  which  the  people  collect  and  use  as  honey. 

The  mission  party  consisted  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shreve, 
lately  arrived,  and  now  in  a  distant  exile  at  Poo, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Heyde,  who  had  been  in  Tibet 
for  nearly  forty  years,  chiefly  spent  at  Kylang,  without 
going  home.  '  Plain  living  and  high  thinking '  were 
the  rule.  Books  and  periodicals  were  numerous,  and 
were  read  and  assimilated.  The  culture  was  simply 
wonderful,  and  the  acquaintance  with  the  latest 
ideas  in  theology  and  natural  science,  the  latest 
pohtical  and  social  developments,  and  the  latest 
conceptions  in  European  ait,  would  have  led  me  to 
suppose  that  these  admirable  people  had  only  just 
left  Europe.  Mrs.  Heyde  had  no  servant,  and  in  the 
long  winters,  when  household  and  mission  work  are 
over  for  the  day,  and  there  are  no  mails  to  write  for, 
she  pursues  her  tailoring  and  other  needlework, 
while  her  husband  reads  aloud  till  midnight.  At 
the  time  of  my  visit  (September)  busy  preparations 
for  the  winter  were  being  made.  Every  day  the 
wood  piles  grew.  Hay,  cut  with  sickles  on  the  steep 
hiUsides,  was  carried  on  human  backs  into  the 
farmyard,  apples  were  cored  and  dried  in  the  sun, 
cucumbers  were  pickled,  vinegar  was  made,  potatoes 
were  stored,  and  meat  was  killed  and  salted. 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       155 

It  is  in  winter,  when  the  Christians  have  come 
down  from  the  mountain,  that  most  of  the  mission 
work  is  done.  Mrs.  Heyde  has  a  school  of  forty 
girls,  mostly  Buddhists.  The  teaching  is  simple  and 
practical,  and  includes  the  knitting  of  socks,  of  which 
from  four  to  five  hundred  pairs  are  turned  out  each 
winter,  and  find  a  ready  sale.  The  converts  meet 
for  instruction  and  discussion  twice  daily,  and  there 
is  daily  worship.  The  mission  press  is  kept  actively 
employed  in  printing  the  parts  of  the  Bible  which 
have  been  translated  during  the  summer,  as  well 
as  simple  tracts  written  or  translated  by  Mr.  Heyde. 
No  converts  are  better  instructed,  and  like  those 
of  Leh  they  seem  of  good  quality,  and  are  industrious 
and  self-supporting.  Winter  work  is  severe,  as  ponies, 
cattle,  and  sheep  must  always  be  hand-fed,  and  often 
hand-watered.  Mr.  Heyde  has  great  xepute  as  a 
doctor,  and  in  summer  people  travel  long  distances 
for  his  advice  and  medicine.  He  is  universally 
respected,  and  his  judgment  in  worldly  affairs  is 
highly  thought  of;  but  if  one  were  to  judge  merely 
by  apparent  results,  the  devoted  labour  of  nearly 
forty  years  and  complete  self-sacrifice  for  the  good 
of  Kylang  must  be  pronounced  unsuccessful.  Chris- 
tianity has  been  most  strongly  opposed  by  men  of 
influence,  and  converts  have  been  exposed  to  perse- 


156  AMONG  THE  TIBETANS 

cution  and  loss.  The  abbot  of  the  Kylang  monastery 
lately  said  to  Mr.  Heyde,  'Your  Christian  teaching 
has  given  Buddhism  a  resurrection.'  The  actual 
words  used  were,  '  When  you  came  here  people  were 
quite  indifferent  about  their  religion,  but  since  it  has 
been  attacked  they  have  become  zealous,  and  now 
they  know.'  It  is  only  by  sharing  their  circumstances 
of  isolation,  and  by  getting  glimpses  of  their  everyday 
life  and  work,  that  one  can  realise  at  all  what  the 
heroic  perseverance  and  self-sacrificing  toil  of  these 
forty  years  have  been,  and  what  is  the  weighty 
influence  on  the  people  and  on  the  standard  of  morals, 
even  though  the  number  of  converts  is  so  small.  All 
honour  to  these  noble  German  missionaries,  learned, 
genial,  cultured,  radiant,  who,  whether  teaching, 
preaching,  farming,  gardening,  printing,  or  doctoring, 
are  always  and  everywhere  'living  epistles  of  Christ, 
known  and  read  of  all  men ! '  Close  by  the  mission 
house,  in  a  green  spot  under  shady  trees,  is  God's 
Acre,  where  many  children  of  the  mission  families 
sleep,  and  a  few  adults. 

As  the  winter  is  the  busiest  season  in  mission 
work,  so  it  is  the  great  time  in  which  the  lamas 
make  house-to-house  peregrinations  and  attend  at 
festivals.  Then  also  there  is  much  spinning  and 
weaving  by  both  sexes,  and  tobogganing  and  othen 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       157 

games,  and  much  drinking  of  chang  by  priests  and 
people.  The  cattle  remain  out  till  nearly  Christmas, 
and  are  then  taken  into  the  houses.  At  the  time 
of  the  variable  new  year,  the  lamas  and  nuns  retire 
to  the  mxonasteries,  and  dulness  reigns  in  the  valleys. 
At  the  end  of  a  month  they  emerge,  life  and  noise 
begin,  and  all  men  to  whom  sons  have  been  born 
during  the  previous  year  give  chang  freely.  During 
the  festival  which  follows,  all  these  jubilant  fathers 
go  out  of  the  village  as  a  gaudily  dressed  procession, 
and  form  a  circle  round  a  picture  of  a  yak,  painted 
by  the  lamas,  which  is  used  as  a  target  to  be  shot 
at  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  it  is  believed  that 
the  man  who  hits  it  in  the  centre  will  be  blessed 
with  a  son  in  the  coming  year.  After  this,  all  the 
Kylang  men  and  women  collect  in  one  house  by 
annual  rotation,  and  sing  and  drink  immense  quan- 
tities oi  chang  till  lo  p.m. 

The  religious  festivals  begin  soon  after.  One,  the 
worshipping  of  the  lamas  by  the  laity,  occurs  in 
every  village,  and  lasts  from  two  to  three  days.  It 
consists  chiefly  of  music  and  dancing,  while  the 
lamias  sit  in  rows,  swilling  chang  and  arrack.  At 
another,  which  is  celebrated  annually  in  every  Louse, 
the  lamias  assemble,  and  in  front  of  certain  gods 
prepare  a  number  of  mystical  figures  made  of  dough, 


TjS  AMOXG   THE  TIBET  A  XS 

whicli  <re  hung  up  and  are  worshipped  hv  the  family. 
Afterwards  the  lamas  make  little  balls  which  are 
worshipped,  and  one  of  the  family  mounts  the  roof 
and  invites  the  neighbours,  who  receive  the  balls 
from  the  lamas  hands  and  drink  moderately  of  cJiang. 
Nest,  the  figures  ai'e  thrown  to  the  demons  as  a 
propitiatory  oftering,  amidst  '  hellish  whistlings  *  and 
the  firing  of  guns.  These  ceremonies  are  caEed  ise 
d'i'up  (a  full  hfe),  and  it  is  believed  that  if  they  were 
neglected  life  would  be  cut  short. 

One  of  the  most  important  of  the  winter  religious 
duties  of  the  lamas  is  the  reading  of  the  sacred 
classics  under  the  roof  of  each  householder.  Ey  this 
means  the  family  accumulate  merit,  and  the  longer 
the  reading  is  protracted  the  gi-eater  is  the  accumu- 
lation. A  twelve-volume  book  is  taken  in  the  houses 
of  the  richer  householders,  each  one  of  the  twelve 
or  fifteen  lamas  taking  a  page,  all  reading  at  an 
immense  pace  in  a  loud  chant  at  the  same  time. 
The  reading  of  these  volumes,  which  consist  of 
Buddhist  metaphysics  and  philosophy,  takes  five 
days,  and  while  reading  each  lama  has  his  chang 
cup  constantly  replenished.  In  the  poorer  households 
a  classic  of  but  one  volume  is  taken,  to  lessen  the 
expense  of  feeding  the  lamas.  Festivals  and  cere- 
monies foUow  each  other  closely  until  March,  when 


CLIMATE  AND  NATURAL  FEATURES       159 

archery  practice  begins,  and  in  April  and  May  the 
people  prepare  for  the  operations  of  husbandry. 

The  weather  in  Kylang  breaks  in  the  middle  of 
September,  but  so  fascinating  were  the  beauties  and 
sublimity  of  Nature,  and  the  virtues  and  cultui-e  of 
my  Moravian  friends,  that,  shutting  my  eyes  to  the 
possible  perils  of  the  Eotang,  I  remained  until  the 
harvest  was  brought  home  with  joy  and  revelry, 
and  the  flush  of  autumn  faded,  and  the  first  snows 
of  winter  gave  an  added  majesty  to  the  glorious 
valley.  Then,  reluctantly  folding  my  tent,  and 
taking  the  same  faithful  fellows  who  brought  my 
bao-cracre  from  Leh,  I  spent  five  weeks  on  the  descent 
to  the  Panjab,  journeying  through  the  paradise  of 
Upper  Kulu  and  the  interesting  native  states  of 
Mandi,  Sukket,  Bilaspur,  and  Bhaghat ;  and  early  in 
November  reached  the  amenities  and  restraints  of 
the  civilisation  of  Simla. 


THE  Eiro. 


25618 


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